I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes)
by foxfire79
Summary: The Inquisitor and Cullen spend an evening together, tied together by the bonds of unspoken love, unruly sleeping draughts, and a mutual fondness for banana pancakes. The fault lies fully with sleeping draughts, though. Romance/Humour and a little Angst thrown in just to level it out. Quite a bit of party banter thrown in. Corrected minor spelling errors 02/01/15. Part 07 soon! :-)
1. Chapter 1

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

The Inquisitor gazed intently at the table, her head tilted slightly to the right, scanning over the vellum folds of the ornately hand-painted maps before her. A small wrinkle formed between her eyebrows as she mulled over the information she'd been given by her three advisors, trying to ascertain which methods would be best used to achieve the Inquisition's objectives for the immediate future. Either that, or she was struggling to stay awake. Cullen was trying to not openly stare at her from across the table, but he could tell that she wasn't truly focused on the task at hand. He cleared his throat softly at the exact same moment that Leliana reached around the table and touched her gently on the arm.

"Inquisitor? What is your decision?"

Leliana's soft voice seemed to break through whatever reverie had transfixed the Inquisitor for the past few moments, as she blinked and suddenly seemed to remember where she was. Her left hand rose and rubbed her brow unconsciously, as she raised her eyes from the map and surveyed both her companions and her advisors. Her hand moved from her brow to run through her hair, and the right side of her mouth quirked up into an apologetic smile.

"Forgive me, friends, I need a little time. Decisions of such gravity shouldn't be made without deep thought and..."

She was cut off mid-sentence by Cassandra slamming an ornate dagger into the table directly in front of her, and roughly grabbing her shoulder.

"You've been thinking for three bloody days! I'm tired of lurking around this bloody ridiculous castle with nothing to do!"

Each sentence Cassandra uttered was accompanied by a rough shake of Lilah Trevelyan's shoulders, of which she now held both. The smaller woman looked up into Cassandra's face calmly, even as holy fire seemed to be raining down on her from the fierce warrior's eyes. Varric nudged Sera, who was gazing at the scene before them, transfixed.

"That's two, Butterfly."

Sera glanced sideways at him, then returned her sight to the action in front of them.

"Two what, Varric. Two incredibly good looking woman fighting? I kind of didn't miss that."

Varric shook his head, and chuckled.

"Two 'bloody's' in one confrontation. Cassandra's mad as hell. I don't know how Lilah's gonna survive this."

Sera crossed her arms, still not looking away.

"Lilah is unflappable. She is yet to... flap. Now stop interrupting, this is just getting interesting."

Cassandra had pushed Lilah against the map table, her backside now resting against the edge of the carved wood. Cassandra's fists were pushing into the table on either side of Lilah's hips, and their foreheads were almost touching. Lilah's face was still calm, but her right eye was starting to twitch, a telltale sign of her keeping her temper in check. Cassandra was glaring straight into the aforementioned eyes, and her resolve didn't seem to be diminishing.

"Just. Bloody. Pick. Something."

Solas, who had been standing silently beside Varric, crossed his arms and sighed.

"That would be three."

Varric snorted with laughter, glancing over at the somewhat stoic elven mage.

"Solas! I'm surprised, I thought this kind of behaviour was beneath you."

The elf sighed, and rolled his neck from side-to-side.

"Maybe I'm sick of being in this bloody castle as well. Or maybe I'm just overtired. Either way, something has to break Trevelyan out of this..."

He struggled to find a word, and Varric stepped in, always happy to offer his services as a human (well, dwarven) thesaurus.

"Funk? Post-battle malady? Sullenness?"

Solas rubbed a hand over his eyes, and stifled a chuckle.

"Is it out of line to refer to our fearless leader as sullen?"

Varric shrugged, and cracked his knuckles.

"I think it would be out of line if we said she was pouting. Or being a big baby. Sullen is fine."

Lilah's gaze still hadn't left Cassandra's. She very carefully moved her right hand to where Cassandra's right arm was keeping her imprisoned and moved it aside, allowing herself just enough room to escape the Seeker's 'cage', then resumed her position in front of the table.

"I will pick something when I'm good and ready. I will not be rushed, Seeker. This is my Inquisition, and I will see it succeed with as little of our own blood shed as possible. It's only been a week since we found Leliana being... tortured by those fiends at Redcliffe."

Her voice caught in her throat as she remembered stumbling into the torture chamber and finding her 'Mistress of Secrets' chained up, beaten and barely mobile.

"I won't let anything like happen again. You have my word as The Inquisitor and..."

A bell started resounding down the hall, and everyone in the room seemed to let out a collective breath. Iron Bull's nose started twitching as he smelled the evening's dishes being brought up from the basement kitchen.

"And it's dinner time! Let's go!"

His cheerful bellow seemed to break the tension in the room as all twelve of them, companions and advisors alike, began to head for the door. Cassandra pushed through first, cursing loudly and profusely in her native Nevarran tongue, followed closely by Iron Bull. No-one was going to beat him to the serving table. Cole touched Varric lightly on the arm, a look of concern crossing his already pale face.

"Varric? What was Lady Cassandra saying?"

Varric slung his arm around the skinny young man's waist and steered him down towards the banquet hall.

"You don't wanna know, Kid. You don't wanna know. You comin', Beardy?"

Blackwall sighed, closing his eyes and raising his face to the ceiling.

"Maker, give me strength. What have I told you about that ridiculous nickname, Varric? A fair few people around this Keep have beards, you could be referring to any of them."

Varric nodded, but seemed unphased.

"That may be true, but everyone else around the Keep knows I only give nicknames to the 'Inner Circle' as it were. All those other beardy's can take a hike."

Dorian politely stepped aside to let Vivienne through the door next, while surreptitiously feeling the material of her dress sleeve.

"Vivienne, my dear, is this Orlesian silk? It seems much finer than I remember?"

Vivienne chuckled and placed her hand on his arm.

"Oh Dorian, sweet Dorian. You're so behind the times. All of the best silks are coming out of Antiva now. Do catch up!"

Dorian placed his hand atop hers, and escorted her down the majestic staircase to the banquet hall.

"Do tell, Vivienne. A man of my impeccable tastes simply can't be left behind. Antiva, you say..."

Josephine slipped through the door after excusing herself politely to Lilah and the other two advisors, and nodding to the remaining companions. Cullen and Leliana exchanged a worried glance, then Leliana moved around the table to stand at Lilah's side.

"I thank you for your concern, Inquisitor, but my health is improving daily. Every day I spend among fine company and away from Redcliffe seems to be doing me a world of good."

Lilah didn't raise her eyes from the maps, and her shoulders hunched forward as she looked even more closely at her options.

"It was still my fault that you ended up captured though. I never should have sent you there, I should have known the danger..."

Leliana nudged her in the side, and spoke a little more sharply.

"How could you have known? Are you suddenly a Seer? Did you come back from the Fade with even more powers than you're letting on? You can't tell the future, Trevelyan. What if you had sent someone less experienced then me? They could have divulged everything during torture, about the Keep, about the Inquisition, about your power to open and close rifts at will. Imagine the damage of all that information falling into enemy hands. I'M glad you sent ME there. Now pull yourself out of this ridiculous shame spiral and let us do our jobs!"

She turned on her heel, rather abruptly, and hissed in pain as her knee twisted. Clearly Leliana wasn't as healed as she'd let on. She stalked toward the door, limping slightly, then disappeared down the hallway.

Cullen was at a loss. He didn't want to say anything comforting that could be implied as him being too soft on her, but he also didn't want to add to the pile of harsh truths that had already been heaped on her. He moved around the table to where she stood and cleared his throat once again to catch her attention. She jumped a little and looked up at him.

"Ah! I'm fine, really..."

She trailed off, and blushed slightly at her overreaction. He narrowed his eyes slightly, noting her slightly redder-then-normal cheeks and overly bright eyes.

"I hadn't asked how you were, Inquisitor."

He moved to stand in front of her, and grasped both her shoulders, making her look up at him with a slightly perturbed look on her face.

"I don't know if I'd survive a shaking by you, Ser Cullen, if that is your intention."

He shook his head, silently cursing himself for accidentally mirroring what Cassandra had done to her earlier. Even so, she still looked up into his eyes, completely trusting him. He struggled to find the words he was searching for, then found them.

"I'm not here to coddle you, Inquisitor, nor am I here to berate you for your past actions. As one of your advisors, I thought it best to actually offer you some advice for once. Take your time. Take all the time you need. You should never make rash decisions in battle. If there is a better path to take, take it, even if that path is longer than the more direct route. Don't let anyone rush you into anything you're not ready for, and fully think through all your decisions. That's the only way you'll stay true to yourself, and make this Inquisition the best and strongest it can be."

Cullen released her shoulders, and surveyed her face. Those dark green eyes of hers were gazing up at him wide and surprised, and her mouth had fallen open into an 'O' of shock. He couldn't help but look at those lovely red lips of hers, and slightly parted as they were his mind immediately fell to thinking about what it would be like to kiss her. That would definitely make her look more shocked and surprised. Her voice broke him from his reverie.

"I... err... Thank you, Ser Cullen. I'm sorry to have troubled you."

He nodded to her politely, and turned to leave the room, when she called out to him again.

"Ser Cullen! I'll do my best to... I'll just do my best. I won't ignore your good counsel."

Cullen smiled softly, gave a small bow, and exited the room, leaving only Solas and Sera who were still gathering their things before heading down to dinner. He walked to the end of the corridor to the large window that overlooked the courtyard, and sat for a moment, enjoying the view. What a meeting that had turned out to be! Before Leliana's incarceration, the Inquisitor would have picked three objectives at random and sent whoever was available to see that the job was done. Now... He sighed and ran a hand through his wavy, blond hair, his gaze darkening. She'd been scared by this close call, and had lost her nerve. It happened to the best of soldiers, and the Inquisitor did have a lot of responsibility for one so young. He'd been young once too, and foolhardy, and he'd paid for those decisions dearly. He could see a lot of himself reflected in the Inquisitor. He decided to linger in the hallway a little longer. The view through the window was rather nice after all. It's not like he was waiting to escort her to dinner or anything.

Lilah had returned to staring at the table after Cullen had left, when she notice Solas and Sera about to head out the door.

"Solas, could I speak to you for a moment. In, uh... In private?"

Solas stopped in the doorway, with Sera at his side, and turned around.

"Of course"

Sera grabbed his sleeve just as he was turning to go.

"Don't be too long, or you'll miss out on the fresh trout again. We all know how much you hate beef."

He glanced at her, worried, then looked back towards Lilah. Last time there had been fresh trout, Iron Bull had grabbed the entire platter and had absconded with it to his quarters.

"Save me some, will you?"

Sera shook her head, cheekily, and grinned.

"That's not how this works, mate. First in, first served, you know the rules."

Solas growled under his breath as Sera sauntered off, laughing. He turned to face Lilah, reschooling his face into its usual calm mask.

"What can I do for you, Trevelyan?"

Cullen was still lurking in the hallway. Not lurking, that sounded far too... sordid. He was just waiting until the noise had died down before he followed everyone downstairs. And if the Inquisitor just so happened to be walking in the same direction, he might be convinced to walk along beside her and exchange a few pleasantries. It would be only fitting, as a gentleman and as one of her trusted advisors, to make sure she made it to her meal unmolested. He noticed Sera leaving the map room alone, and could hear voices drifting out through the open door. The Inquisitor and Solas, the elven apostate, seemed to be having a rather animated conversation. Solas' voice was its usual low, calming timbre, but the Inquisitor's voice was growing louder and more panicked as the conversation wore on. He was considering moving away, so as not to eavesdrop, when a loud smacking sound rang out from inside the room, followed by a curse.

"You bastard! It's your job to serve the Inquisition, and this is what I need to keep the Inquisition going!"

That was the Inquisitor.

"I've already told you, I can't help you anymore! It's time for you to sort out your own problems, without me! I wash my hands of it!"

That was Solas. So the elf actually did have an emotional side.

"Wait, Solas! What should I do?"

She did sound rather upset. Maybe he'd stumbled upon a lover's quarrel. Cullen's stomach did a strange little flip when that thought occurred to him. Imagining the Inquisitor being involved with anyone made him feel uncomfortable, but with an apostate? Even though Solas came across as one of the 'good guys', he'd been living in the wilds so long, the Maker could only know if he'd had any blood mage associates or demonic dealings in all that time. The brief silence in the room was broken by Solas as he walked to the doorway, turned, and spoke back into the room in parting.

"Perhaps you should stop slapping the people who are trying to help you. That would be a good start."

Solas started to stalk off down the hallway, then noticed the shadow lying on the floor to his right.

"You'd best come out, Knight Captain, lest I blast you with a fireball by accident. That's what we apostates do, is it not?"

Cullen stepped out of the relatively shadowy alcove and inclined his head towards Solas, not trace of a smile on his face.

"Was that a lover's quarrel I just heard the end of? I have no objection, of course, in these troubled times we must find what happiness we can, but if the Inquisitor's mental state is in question, we don't know how her 'special powers' may be affected."

Solas snorted derisiveley, and shook his head.

"If a lover's quarrell is the first thing you think of at a time like this, we are definitely in a sorry state of affairs. No, Knight Captain, Trevelyan and I have not engaged in a romantic relationship. She's not my type."

Cullen scratched his head, frowning, then continued his line of questioning. He found it very hard to believe that anyone could find the Inquisitor not to their liking.

"If not that, then what could provoke her to... well..."

Solas rubbed his cheek absentmindedly, and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

"To slap me? Yes, I suppose that did make it look a bit suspicious, didn't it? I've decided to stop treating her, for the time being."

Cullen furrowed his brow, still not following.

"Treating her? What do you mean?"

Solas sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

"Treating her. As her healer. Or medic, if you wish to use the more military vernacular."

Cullen felt as if he'd suddenly let go of a deep breath. He hadn't realised he'd been holding it. He was just so relieved that there was nothing going on between the elf and the Inquisitor. He quickly composed himself and started to walk along with Solas, who was heading down the stairs to the banquet hall.

"Is the Inquisitor ill? Is it serious?"

Solas' steps slowed, and he eyed the ex-templar suspiciously.

"What business is it of yours? Trevelyan entrusted me with her care, she abused that trust, and now I'm no longer looking after her. Until she comes to her senses again, anyway."

Cullen grabbed the elven mage's arm firmly, and both men stopped walking.

"It's my business if our people die. If she's not able to make a clear tactical choice, lives hang in the balance. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if more people got tortured or killed because of her. Now tell me what's wrong with her."

Solas gazed back at Cullen, unperturbed by the fact that he had almost growled that final sentence at him. He'd had a sudden realisation.

"You care about her."

Cullen let go of Solas' arm, and stepped back to a less threatening distance.

"Of course I do. She's the head of the Inquisition. I'm one of her advisors. Anyone could see that."

Solas shook his head, that ghost of a smile tickling his lips again.

"That's not what I meant, Knight Captain. You care about her, as any good man should care about the woman he lo..."

Cullen shook his head.

"You're wrong. You're... reading too much into this. Just tell me what's wrong with her. Please."

Solas sighed, and began his journey to dinner again, Cullen following along beside him.

"For the last week, ever since we rescued Leliana from Redcliffe, she's been experiencing night terrors, bad dreams that plague her sleep. She barely slept at all those three nights travelling back from Redcliffe. When she arrived back at the Keep she requested a sleeping potion, to help her achieve some rest. Apparently it didn't work, but it made her sluggish for the rest of the next day. To make up for that, she took some stamina potions to keep her alert enough to make it through the day. Then when evening came, she appeared requesting another sleeping potion. I always make sure she drinks them in my presence, so I know they've been taken appropriately. This one didn't work either though, according to her, and so she spent another day downing stamina potions to keep alert. Last night she came to me again, and I gave her the strongest sleeping draught I had. It's more of a tranquiliser than a sleeping potion, I used to use it in the wilds to bring down large beasts so I could kill them more easily. The active ingredient is an exceptionally rare flower called 'Harlot's Blush'. Now I watched her drink that potion last night, then walk, albeit unsteadily, towards her chamber to go to sleep."

Cullen sighed as they neared the bottom of the stairs, and ran a hand over his hair.

"Let me guess - it didn't work. So that little argument I saw earlier was you refusing her any more trips to your apothecary?"

Solas snorted softly.

"Yes. The alchemist is now officially closed, as it were. I would no more give her any more sleeping potions then I'd give a child a pet dragon. The results would be... disastrous at best."

Cullen sighed again as they entered the banquet hall.

"Thank you for your candour, Solas, I shall trouble you with my presence no longer..."

Solas raised his hand to interrupt Cullen just before he left.

"Might I ask a favour of you, Knight Captain? If it's not too much trouble, can you check on Trevelyan later for me this evening? I fear that in the mood she's in right now, any advances I make towards her will be turned against me. I just want her to get some good, natural sleep."

Cullen inclined his head toward Solas and smiled slightly.

"Of course. Are there any side effects from these draughts I need to look out for. Will she be safe to be left alone?"

Solas thought for a moment.

"She should be fine. Since I didn't give her anything tonight, it will just be the past three nights draughts wearing off. There may be some very slight issues with inflated bravado, somnambulism, sleep-talking and waking dreams, but that shouldn't be anything to worry about. No, no, everything should be fine. Good luck, Knight Captain."

Solas turned and sat down next to Sera, who in turn looked both surprised and awed by whom he'd been walking with.

"You were talking to Cullen. You were talking to him and not trying to murder each other. Am I in the Fade?"

Solas ignored her, scoured the table with his eyes until he spotted the baked trout, grabbed two of them, and sighed happily.

Cullen had filled his own plate and was eating by himself at a table in the corner. Neither Josephine nor Leliana were present. They must have taken supper in their rooms, and Cullen didn't feel comfortable enough with the Inquisitor's companions to dine with them. He wondered if he'd managed to walk down to dinner with the Inquisitor if she would have been happy to share a table with him. He hoped she would. She seemed personable enough, at least during the few times he'd been able to speak with her outside of the map room, around the grounds of the Keep. He knew that she was the all important head of the Inquisition, but she was also a normal human being. Well, almost normal. She did have that whole green-glowing-left-hand-can-open-fade-rifts situation. But she wasn't a mage, so those powers were entirely new to her and could disappear at any time, hopefully. He narrowed his eyes while thinking this, and snorted out a low chuckle. Why was he hoping her power would disappear? It was the only real advantage they had at the moment. As he was clearing his plate, he noticed Solas hurrying towards him, so he stood to meet him.

"Ser Mage? Is there something else?"

Solas had a worried frown forming between his eyes, as he bobbed his head slightly in greeting.

"Yes... Maybe? I don't know. It was just something that occurred to me, a few other things you may have to look out for. I realised that I haven't seen Trevelyan eat an entire meal in the past three days, so any effects she's feeling from those potions may be greatly magnified. Also..."

Solas stammered to a halt, and a faint blush seemed to creep over his cheeks.

"What? How bad is it?"

Cullen knew he wasn't going to like whatever the mage had to say next.

"Harlot's Blush, that rare, expensive flower I used in the most potent sleeping draught. It's also a rather strong hallucinogen, popular among some of the more... free-spirited Dalish tribes. They use it in spirit quests, coming of age trials, things like that. It is, however, also used in some other communities as an aphrodisiac, and a rather strong one at that."

Cullen grabbed the mage by his lapels and pulled him closer, to hiss his ire directly into Solas' face.

"What were you thinking, giving her something like that?"

Solas had the good graces to look rather crestfallen as he pulled himself back to arms length from the now fuming ex-Templar.

"I wasn't thinking, obviously. She wanted to sleep, and so did I. I knew how the ingredients affected elves, but I wasn't sure about the effects on a human. Elves react to things more strongly than humans, so hopefully Trevelyan won't have to deal with any of these issues. I just grabbed the first phial I came across and handed it over. And it should have worked. Trevelyan seems to be the most utterly resilient individual I've ever met."

Cullen barked out a laugh at that exceptionally true statement, and let go of the mage's robes, raising his hands to massage his temples, eyes closed against the oncoming storm.

"Resilient, yes, I'll give her that much. Very well, Ser Mage, I shall heed your warnings. If you'll excuse me..."

Solas rearranged his robes, then turned and walked off. Sera sidled up to him, hooking her arm through his.

"Sooo... How rare are these flowers, and how much will you pay me to supply them to you?"

Solas looked down at the arm hooked through his, and back to Sera's face.

"I didn't think I was your type, Sera. And just how much of that conversation did you overhear?"

Sera tilted her head to the right and looked up at the taller mage.

"I heard 'rare, expensive' and 'hallucinogen'. I didn't hear what it was in regards to, but with the mood Cullen's nursing right now I assume it has something to do with Lilah. But that's none of my business. And no, sadly, you are still not my type."

Solas sighed and started walking towards the tavern, where he knew Sera would likely be heading next.

"So, why the interest in the Harlot's Blush flowers?"

Sera grinned up into his face, and patted his arm.

"Sweetheart, don't you know me by now? I go where the money and adventures are. If these flowers are rare, they most likely grow in dangerous places. All you have to do is point me in the right direction, and soon you'll be swimming in blossoms."

Solas looked down at her, slightly alarmed.

"I don't really need that many, Sera."

Sera sighed, and her steps sped up as they neared the roaring fire and ruckus of her beloved night spot.

"Details, details... Now come and have a drink!"

Cullen heard their voices trailing off, and decided to go to the library for an hour or so before checking in on the Inquisitor. The woman probably wanted some peace after that travesty of a meeting this afternoon. He felt he should have stepped in when Cassandra had grabbed her, but something in the way the Inquisitor had let it all happen had seemed to hold him in check. She had been in control even when her back had been literally against the wall, or map table as it were. Though technically it hadn't been her back against the table. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had let his eyes wander over the well-toned curves of the Inquisitor's body, only when he knew she wasn't looking. He'd watched her training in the courtyard, beads of sweat rolling down the back of her neck, and Maker help him he'd wanted to lick that sweat right off her. That long, black hair of hers flying out behind her as she leapt through the air, daggers outstretched. He could imagine himself tangling his fingers through that hair as their lips meshed together, her body molding to his. He'd had to leave that alcove in the courtyard rather quickly, before anyone had seen him there, mouth gaping open and eyes wide, staring at her like a love-struck teenager.

Cullen suddenly realised that in his dazed state he'd actually managed to make it to the library. The doors were open and the fire was burning merrily. By one of the large, leather armchairs an open book lay on the floor, it's pages fluttering in a cross-breeze. He paced over and picked it up, ready to replace it on the shelf, then stopped when he read the title.

"The 'Eye' in Inquisition - Adventures among the Holy Order by Varric Tethras, volume three. Maker, it's happening again..."

Cullen squinted down at the small print, then flicked through and found some of the illustrations.

"This is world's worse than 'Hard in Hightown'. How does he manage it? Where does he find the paper? Does he have a secret room full of writers just following his every whim?"

Cullen started scouring the rest of the tables and shelves for any more copies of 'The 'Eye' in Inquisition'. He'd have that fire burning even more merrily by the time he was done. Before he knew it two hours had passed and thirteen copies, volumes one through four, had all met the flames. It was nearing ten-thirty at night, and he was starting to grow weary himself, now that his downright indignation at only barely being mentioned in two volumes of Varric's masterwork had started to cool. He rubbed his chin, and stood up from the too comfortable arm chair, ready to head up to his rest. He reached his tower, and unstrapped his armour, carefully placing it on the mannequin by the door, and started to pull off his shirt when he remembered his promise to Solas to look in on the Inquisitor.

"Bloody hell..."

He mumbled the curse under his breath, and shrugged out of the shirt anyway, pulling a fresh one from his clothes shelf. His black pants and boots were still fine, and the deep red of the fresh shirt brought out the auburn highlights in his blond hair. Not that he cared, of course. There was absolutely no reason for him to try and make himself look nice. No reason at all. He decided to wash his face as well. He looked at himself in the small round shaving mirror above his wash basin, and rolled his eyes.

"What is wrong with you? You're thirty-five years old. Stop acting like a stupid little... boy..."

He sighed, and picked up his sword, then looked at it and placed it back on the rack, choosing a smaller dagger instead. He wouldn't have any use for a sword at this time of night, surely. With the dagger secured at his hip, he closed the door to his chambers and headed down the corridor to the Inquisitor's chambers on the far side of the keep. While he walked he started thinking about how she'd acted this afternoon again. When he came over to her and clasped her shoulders, she hadn't tensed, nor had she looked away from him. She had just looked up at him with those pretty eyes of hers, waiting to see what he'd do. If there hadn't been anyone else in the room with them he may have done something other than just offer her some advice. With that dark green gaze trained only on him, he'd almost come undone. He would have happily confessed his undying love for her, but he knew that any chance at reciprocation was futile.

What woman in their right mind would choose to be with an ex-Templar? He'd been brought up in the Chantry, and had started Templar training at the age of fifteen. He'd become a full knight in the order by the age of twenty, and during all of this time he'd never even come close to sleeping with anyone, let alone having a proper relationship. True, he'd had dalliances with some of the female recruits, but none so serious as to warrant their supervisors stepping in. He knew his way around the female anatomy, but was yet to take that one final step. Then at the age of twenty-five he'd been posted to Kinloch Hold, and three years later all hell had broken loose. He had been a broken man, tormented by his own demons, even after the actual demons had been destroyed. The only bright spark that had stood out for him at that time was Ceridwen Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, who hadn't been a hero at that point, just a normal (or as close to normal as the Grey Wardens come) woman, who had come to save the Tower and all of it's occupants, including himself. The fact that one woman could stand up to the demons of the Fade and emerge victorious was... amazing. She was clearly enamoured of her fellow Grey Warden Alistair though, so Cullen entertained no overtures towards her.

Two years after that, when he had resettled in Kirkwall, he'd met another woman of merit by the name of Rhiannon Hawke. She had saved his life when a recruit he had been questioning had not only turned into a demon himself, but managed to summon a plethora of demons to come to his aid. Hawke and her companions had come rushing over the hill and jumped straight into the fray, hacking and slashing until everything unnatural had been returned to whence it came. She'd introduced herself, still bloody and breathing heavily from the fight while her friends were looting the bodies, and he'd felt a twinge in his gut. He'd known that this woman would turn out to be another Hero, much like Cousland. Hawke already had her eye on one of her followers though, a tall lyrium tattooed elf by the name of Fenris, who equally seemed to have his eyes firmly fixed on her as his own conquest, so Cullen once again left well enough alone. In the end, the only thing Cullen could do for Hawke was bend a knee to her after she had defeated Meredith and name her Viscount of Kirkwall. A Champion and a Viscount. He most definitely did not think himself worthy of such a prize

Now here he was, thirty-five years old and running the same loop again. Another young female Hero was making herself a legend, and he would most likely have to step aside for whichever of her companions she chose to fall hopelessly in love with. Bonds grew closer when you traveled and fought together constantly. Hell, he didn't even know what her preferences were. From the close proximity she'd been sharing with Cassandra that afternoon, perhaps she enjoyed an even closer relationship with the Seeker than she let on. Cullen had reached the Inquisitor's chambers, and knocked on the door lightly.

"Inquisitor? Are you there?"

He pushed on the door and it opened, revealing a slightly messy but organised antechamber full of maps, books and piles of vellum scrolls in various states of unrolling. He assumed, correctly, that her bedroom would be in another side room and so scoured the walls until he found another door half open to the left of her desk. He walked over to it and knocked once again, even though it was fairly obvious there was nobody in there.

"Hello?"

He called again, hopefully, but knew if there was no reply it probably wasn't because she was sleeping peacefully in her bed. She just wasn't here. He could see from the doorway that her bed was empty, and that somehow gave him a sense of dread. Where the devil was she, if not in her room? He strode back out of her antechamber and pulled the door closed behind him. He'd start looking where he'd last seen her, the Map room no more than four hours earlier. Surely she wouldn't still be there. As luck would have it, as soon as he turned the corner he could see the lamps lit within said room, and his steps quickened as he hurried towards the still open door. He grasped the door-frame as he peered in and breathed a sigh of relief. She was sitting on a stool facing the door, with her head resting on her arm, her long black hair splayed out across the table. Her eyes still appeared to be open, so she still hadn't succumbed to sleep yet, but were unfocused as she gazed at the maps before her. The lamplight playing off her alabaster skin almost seemed to make her glow. For a moment Cullen thought he was looking at an angel, then he came to his senses and entered the room.

"Thank the Maker! You had me worried for a moment when I couldn't find you, Inquisitor."

The Inquisitor raised her head and blinked at him, as if in confusion.

"Cullen? You're here early."

Cullen looked at her, and raised an eyebrow in question. She'd never forgotten to address him as 'Ser' before. The familiarity of his name dropping from her lips without the honorific prefix made his stomach flip, but this time in a much more pleasant manner. But her statement about the time of his arrival was quite a mystery.

"Early, Inquisitor? What do you mean?"

She stifled a yawn, and stretched her arms above her head, and Maker help him he couldn't stop his gaze from dropping to her bosom. He was a man, after all, and if these things presented themselves before him, who was he to deny his baser nature. She finished stretching and looked at him, watching her.

"See something you like?"

Cullen blushed and looked away. She'd finally caught him.

"Forgive me, Inquisitor. It won't happen again."

The Inquisitor stood and walked around the table to stand in front of him, standing with her hands on her hips.

"This is definitely an odd dream. You don't usually appear until I'm in my bedchamber. And you're calling me Inquisitor all the time, like you do during the day. You usually call me Lilah. And you apologised for ogling me. A very odd dream indeed."

Cullen's eyes widened when he realised what was going on. The woman thought she was asleep! More importantly, she mentioned that he made regular appearances in her dreams, usually in her bedchamber where he called her Lilah, and generally didn't have to apologise for ogling her. He couldn't help but grin, but the grin slid off his face when she reached up and stoked his cheek, her fingers lingering at the scar on his lip.

"I'm also wondering why you're taking so long to kiss me..."

END OF PART 01

And that's the end of Part 1 - hopefully this will just be two parts as I'm working on something slightly longer, which is also Inquisitor/Cullen based. Read, rate and enjoy :-)

Foxfire out!


	2. Chapter 2

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

Previously...

"This is definitely an odd dream. You don't usually appear until I'm in my bedchamber. And you're calling me Inquisitor all the time, like you do during the day. You usually call me Lilah. And you apologised for ogling me. A very odd dream indeed."

Cullen's eyes widened when he realised what was going on. The woman thought she was asleep! More importantly, she mentioned that he made regular appearances in her dreams, usually in her bedchamber where he called her Lilah, and he generally didn't have to apologise for ogling her. He couldn't help but grin, but the grin slid off his face when she reached up and stroked his cheek, her fingers lingering at the scar on his lip.

"I'm also wondering why you're taking so long to kiss me..."

Now...

He reached up and gently removed her hand from his cheek, then dropped to one knee in front of her, kissing the back of her hand while looking up into her slightly dazed eyes.

"Forgive me, Lady Trevelyan."

Her cheeks turned the most pleasing shade of pink he'd ever seen, and a slow smile spread across her lips.

"Oh, so this is actually a romantic dream. I haven't had one of these in a while."

Cullen wasn't quite sure where to go from there, but he was saved by the unruly growling of the Inqui... no, Trevelyan's stomach. He had to start using her name if he wanted to pass this entire evening off as a dream and finally get her to eat something then go to sleep. All of the food in the banquet hall would have been cleared up and thrown away by now, but he knew his way around the kitchen well enough to find her something.

"Come along, Lady Trevelyan, let's find you something to eat."

He clambered back to his feet, and was surprised when Trevelyan held out her hand to take his, smiling all the while.

"Very well, Cullen. Lead on."

He took her small hand within his larger one, and was surprised when she threaded her fingers through his to make their grasp more intimate. His stomach did that strange little flip again, and this time something lower throbbed in response. Cullen shook his head and led the way to the kitchen, berating himself for acting like a teenager in heat again. The woman was drugged and he was acting like a massive arse. Nothing further could be allowed to happen between them.

The kitchens were dark when they arrived, so Cullen lit a few candles then turned to find Trevelyan gazing at him expectantly.

"What do feel like eating, My Lady? Bread, cold meats, vegetables... I'm sure there's cake if we look hard enough. Though, they may have been lying about the cake..."

Trevelyan seemed to stop and think for a second.

"Back at home in Ostwick, we used to have this brilliant Orlesian cook. She would make these amazing dishes that were so fancy I couldn't even pronounce the names of half of them. But my favourite thing that she used to make was banana pancakes. You wouldn't know how to make those, would you?"

Luckily enough, Cullen was extremely proficient in the workings of the banana pancake. One of the kindlier Chantry sister's had used to make them for the children living at the Chantry where he'd grown up, and he'd always watched avidly as she's created the tasty delights.

"This is your dream, My Lady. Of course I know how to make your favourite foods."

He ushered her to one of the low stone benches that lined the walls to the sides of the oven, and went to the cupboards to start gathering ingredients. He mentally ticked them off as he pulled flour, sugar and salt from the tall pantry and placed them on one of the preparation tables, and walked over to the ice-chest in the corner where the fresh ingredients were kept. The Inquisition's mages' had be-spelled the chest so that milk, eggs and fresh meats would last longer in storage, a truly ingenious idea. He retrieved eggs and milk from the chest, all the while extremely aware of Trevelyan's heated gaze following his every step, every movement.

He'd only glanced over at her once while collecting everything, and had had to look away almost immediately for fear of forgetting what his goal for this... farce was. Her eyes, always a dark shade of green, seemed even darker, with the reflection of the cooking fire's flames in them. Her gaze had travelled over his entire body in the few seconds he'd looked at her, with her lower lip rolled between her teeth. She seemed to be fixating on the scar by his mouth again, though. Every time they'd spoken before this evening she'd kept eye contact, if not shied away from looking at him directly overlong as any young lady of nobility was taught to do. Now, it seemed, all bets were off. Cullen laid the blame directly on the sleeping potions. He turned away from her, facing the table and almost throwing the hand of bananas in his grasp onto the stone surface. Facing away from her was also the only way she wouldn't see the growing issue he was having with his raging libido. Even so, he could still feel her staring at him, practically boring holes through his shoulder blades as he leaned against the table and struggled to remember the recipe.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

Her voice broke into his thoughts, and he squeezed his eyes closed before answering her, hands fisting into the table.

"No, My Lady. Please just... stay where I can see you. I can't have you disappearing on me again."

Trevelyan stretched again, and smiled lazily.

"No fear of me doing that, Cullen. I'm enjoying the view all too much."

Maker help him. He peeled three bananas, broke them (rather violently) into pieces, and threw them into a bowl. He then proceeded to mash them with a fork. He felt a presence at his elbow and turned to find that Trevelyan had sneaked up silently beside him and was watching him with a dreamy expression on her face.

"You really can do absolutely everything, can't you?"

Cullen snorted and continued mashing the bananas, more gently this time.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, My Lady."

Trevelyan sat on the edge of the table, her shapely body mere inches from him, gazing up at him as he stirred the flour, sugar and salt into the banana mash.

"I'm sure you do. You give motivational speeches like a bloody king, your fighting style is perfect, now I find out you can cook and you look completely dashing while doing all of it!"

Cullen could feel the blush creeping up his neck before he could even try and stop it. SHE thought HE was good looking. This was news to him. Well, maybe not news exactly, judging from the cues he'd been picking up from her since he'd found her in the Map room, but she had finally voiced it. Which meant that in the future and under different circumstances she may not be averse to him approaching her to... what exactly? He hadn't thought that far ahead yet. What exactly did he want from Trevelyan?

He deftly cracked an egg into the bowl, managing to not drop any shell fragments into the mixture, and stirred it in. The mixture was still too thick, so he sloshed in some milk. Much better. He dipped a finger into the batter to taste it, but as he was raising it to his mouth Trevelyan grabbed his wrist and brought his mixture dipped finger to her own lips. Cullen's mouth dropped open as Trevelyan closed her lips over his finger and sucked the pancake mixture off it. Maker, he could feel her tongue wrapped around his finger. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh, and Cullen had to fight against the urge to push her down on the table and see what else he had to do to make her sigh like that again. Or moan. Instead he slowly retracted his finger and cleared his throat.

"Do you want these pancakes or not, My Lady?"

Trevelyan opened her eyes and nodded, her stomach growling again.

"I do. Very much so. I don't think I've properly eaten in a few days. Which may be why this dream is so vivid..."

Cullen sighed and placed a flat pan over the cooking fire, with some butter in it so the cakes wouldn't stick. Ah yes. This was all a 'dream' after all, and in dreams one didn't take advantage of the woman in charge of the dream. He poured some of the mixture into the pan where it began to sizzle, and soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of banana pancakes. He gave the pan a shake then flipped the pancake in mid-air to cook on the other side. He allowed himself a smirk when he realised Trevelyan was once again gazing at him with adoration.

"I'm sure anyone else could do this as well as me, if not better My Lady. And surely I'm not the most dashing figure your eyes have rested on during the past few months."

He tipped the cooked pancake out onto a waiting plate, then poured more mixture and repeated the process another four times until there was a fluffy stack on the plate. He then retrieved some powdered sugar from the pantry and sprinkled it on top, presenting the plate to Trevelyan with a knife and fork.

"Your supper, My Lady."

She eyed the stack hungrily, then looked up at him.

"Aren't you going to have any?"

Cullen sighed loudly, and placed a hand on his stomach.

"I fear I may spoil my manly figure if I joined you, My Lady, seeing as I had a full dinner not long ago. This is entirely your treat. Would you like something to drink?"

Trevelyan nodded, and he moved towards the wine cellar then stopped. Adding wine to three nights worth of sleeping draughts and stamina draughts was probably not a good idea. He grabbed the cocoa powder, sugar and some mint leaves from the pantry instead and made her a hot chocolate. She took a sip after half of the pancakes were gone, and gave a small yelp of glee.

"Maker, Cullen, this is amazing!"

Trevelyan looked so happy guzzling her treats Cullen couldn't help but smile. She didn't get much, if any, time like this to just relax. Perhaps he should discuss bringing in rostered days of rest for the inner circle. It wouldn't hurt. She was actually humming with happiness, and it warmed Cullen's insides. He made a move toward to preparation table to start cleaning up, when Trevelyan finished her plate and leapt up, seemingly refreshed, and began to head towards the door.

"My Lady, where are you going?"

She turned in the doorway and looked back at him, grinning.

"Back to the Map room, of course. I need to check something. Now that I'm fully refreshed and energetic I need something to do!"

Cullen rubbed a weary hand across his brow and walked after her. Of course the sugar rush from the pancakes would wake her up, why hadn't he thought of that BEFORE he'd made them. He trudged along behind her as she practically skipped back to the Map room. She paused at the door and perused the table, then made an affirmative noise and moved forward, grabbing something.

"Ah ha! There's the culprit!"

Trevelyan attempted to wrestle Cassandra's dagger from the table and frowned. She changed her grip and tried again, letting out a small grunt of exertion. Cullen moved into the room and stood at her side, watching her try for a third time to remove the pesky dagger to no avail.

"Please allow me, My Lady."

He moved behind her and placed both of his hands around hers on the hilt of the blade, allowing himself a brief moment to breathe in the intoxicating scent of her hair. She'd startled a little when he'd moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, then she had relaxed against him, resting her body against his. The feel of her against him so completely was almost too much to take. She rolled her neck around so she could look up at his face, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Cullen, what...?"

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he (well, 'they' technically) gave the blade a quick twist to the left and yanked it free from the hard wood. With the dagger freed, there really wasn't any reason to continue holding her was there? He just couldn't bring himself to release her hands, or move away from her sweet warmth. Trevelyan didn't seem to mind though. Her eyes were still locked on his, and he could see her pupils beginning to dilate even further. Oh Maker, that must be the aphrodisiac kicking in. Her lips parted slightly, and her tongue darted out to moisten them. He might have been imagining things, but it seemed she was pressing even more closely to him. This had to stop. He closed his eyes, breaking their intense contact, and stifled a groan of disappointment as he released her hands and moved away from her. He thanked the Maker for the fact that his pants were a loose fit. It made him feel a little better to see an equally disappointed look on Trevelyan's face at their loss of contact. She reached her right hand out towards him, then realised she was holding the dagger.

"Ah... You got it..."

Cullen nodded, and smiled a little sheepishly.

"Well, you were so desperate to get that dagger out of the table, how could I refuse you?"

Trevelyan still looked a little confused, and shook her head.

"But you... you were embracing me. Then you stopped. You never just stop..."

Cullen looked away, trying to think of a reasonable answer.

"Perhaps... this isn't the most romantic place for an interlude like that. Or, perhaps I'm just very tired and wish to retire as soon as I return you to your quarters. Choose whichever answer makes more sense, My Lady."

Trevelyan looked back at him, then started giggling.

"You wish to go to sleep? Alone? This is the strangest dream I've had in ages!"

Cullen managed a half-smile as his stomach flip-flopped again. So it seemed that every dream he starred in with Trevelyan ended with them sleeping together. There had to be some way to not have to end this evening by taking advantage of a drugged woman. If he slept with her in this state, she'd never forgive him. Then again, if he did sleep with her in this state, she may write if off as the dream she thought it was and not be any the wiser. HE'D know, though, and Cullen knew that he would never forgive himself for doing something so utterly... selfish. He cleared his throat and gestured towards the dagger in her hand. He figured the best tactic in this situation would be to distract her and keep her mind off anything untoward.

"So, why the sudden interest in Cassandra's dagger? Are you going to return it?"

Trevelyan looked at him, and rolled her eyes.

"I can't return it to her, this is a dream. I did notice that it was rather blunt, though, I mean look at all the trouble we had removing it from the table. Now, here's what we're going to do: We're going to head to the Undercroft, I'm going to sharpen it, and then I'm going to come back up here and put it back into the table where she'll be sure to find it tomorrow."

Cullen scratched his head, trying not to think too hard about the multiple holes in her logical thought process, and nodded. Anything to keep her mind off... him.

"Good plan. Shall we head down."

Trevelyan cocked her head to the side, hands resting on her hips.

"I thought you were tired."

Cullen sighed and held his hand out.

"I'm not too tired to walk. Come on, the night is still somewhat young. Plenty of time left to sleep later."

Trevelyan giggled at this again.

"Alright, Cullen. Let's go."

She took his hand, and this time he was ready for it when she entwined fingers with him. He couldn't help but smile. Holding hands with her felt so natural. Once again he felt that odd but welcome warmth flooding through his chest. She was walking in perfect time with him, looking up at his face occasionally and smiling to herself. She probably thought he wouldn't notice, but he noticed everything when she was involved. He'd only just realised that himself. He gave her fingers a slight squeeze, then released them, and felt her do the same in return. Yes, the hand-holding just felt right.

"You were wrong, you know."

Cullen's steps faltered, and for a moment he thought she must have read his mind and disagreed with his thoughts.

"Wrong, My Lady? About what?"

She lifted their clasped hands to her lips and laid a soft kiss on the back of his hand, almost mirroring the kiss he'd given her earlier. Cullen's cheeks flared bright red, but he didn't pull his hand from hers.

"Yours is the only dashing figure my eyes have rested on for the past few months. For the past few years in fact. Nobody has ever caught my interest like you, Cullen. You can rest assured, you have no competition when it comes to winning my heart. You've already won my body on numerous occasions, after all."

The smile she shot at him from under lowered lashes, with her lips still so close to his hand he could feel the breath of her words against him, almost brought him to his knees. Clearly her dreams were incredibly vivid. If anything did ever happen between them, he'd have a lot to live up to.

"I... am relieved. Thank you, My Lady. Now, about this dagger..."

Trevelyan smiled, lowered their hands and resumed walking.

"You're just all business tonight aren't you. 'Let's get you some dinner, let's get this dagger sharpened, let's get you into bed alone so you can have nightmares about all the people you've gotten killed so far with this ridiculous Inquisition'..."

Cullen unlatched the door that led to the Undercroft and held it open for her.

"You have nightmares, My Lady?"

Trevelyan ducked through the door ahead of him and turned around.

"Oh yes, all the time. Even the one's with you in them start out as nightmares, then... they get better."

Cullen wondered if the nightmares were a side-effect from the Fade rifts and her 'Cursed Hand'. He'd have to look into it later, maybe ask Solas or Vivienne. Hopefully they'd know something. They walked down the dark tunnel towards the forge, hands clasped again, swinging slightly. Trevelyan was humming again, a tune he faintly recognised.

"Is that 'The Fair Maiden of Ferelden'?"

He couldn't really tell, but he thought he could see a faint blush rising on Trevelyan's cheeks.

"Errr, yes, yes it is. My brother's used to sing it at me whenever I did anything un-ladylike. It was a big joke in my family, you see. Mother was so happy when she finally had a baby girl after having three boys. I was to be her 'little lady', a doll that she could dress up and take to parties, be proud of my embroidery and singing, all those girly things she never had with the boys."

Cullen smirked, thinking of the Trevelyan he knew now trying to be a polite young noblewoman.

"Let me guess: You weren't fond of any of those things."

Trevelyan sighed and chuckled softly.

"No indeed. As soon as I could walk, I was trailing after my brothers, playing with their daggers, getting myself stuck in their armour. I'd hide in the yard while they were practicing their fighting techniques and remember everything, then go and practice myself with the kitchen boys. We only used sticks, but I still whipped their arses. When I was ten years old, my brother's discovered me one day, coming back from one of my 'training sessions'. I was running after one of the kitchen boys who I'd just beaten in a duel, he was bawling his eyes out and clutching his arm which I had barely tapped with my stick. I was yelling apologies and advice as to how to make the bruises go down when Deacon, my oldest brother, stuck his leg out and tripped me into a mud puddle. I must have looked an absolute fright, and all three of them just stood there laughing at me. Joshua, the one next in age to me finally stretched out his hand and pulled me up, and Marcus started dusting me off which just made the mess worse. We were all laughing at that point, and then Marcus says 'Let's get the fair maiden of Fereldan back home then' and then they all started singing it at me..."

Her face suddenly clouded over in the middle of this happy memory.

"All of them... All three of my brothers were at the conclave with me... They're all dead... Maker..."

Cullen held her hand tighter, not really knowing what to say. There wasn't really any way to make someone feel better about losing half their family. He hadn't even known, he doubted any of the Inner Circle knew. Trevelyan certainly never spoke of her family in the group, she seemed to want to keep her nobility a secret. For all he knew, Cullen was now the only other person privy to this terrible tragedy.

"My Lady, I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do...?"

Trevelyan's sad face turned up to look at his, and she smiled faintly.

"You could always help me forget. Distract me with your manly wiles..."

She raised her left hand to his chest as her right hand was still entwined with his, and traced it lightly over his heart. Cullen gulped. The dark hallway was only lit every few metres, but it was light enough to see that she was starting to get that hungry look in her eyes again. This time she wasn't after banana pancakes. The Maker was going to owe him dearly for being the most restrained man in the world tonight. He backed away and smiled softly.

"My Lady, somehow I don't think that would work. As... distracting as it might be, you'll still have to grieve eventually. Why don't we just continue on with our primary objective and sharpen Cassandra's dagger, then get you to bed."

Trevelyan's sad smile turned slightly cheekier.

"To bed? Or to sleep?"

Cullen sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. She would be the death of him.

"Andraste's flaming... To sleep, Trevelyan!"

Trevelyan laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the stone tunnel all the way into the Undercroft.

"That sounded like an order! 'To sleep, Trevelyan!' You can't order a person to sleep, you know."

Cullen glanced at her exasperated, then pulled her more quickly down the corridor.

"If only I could just order you to go to sleep, that would make this so much easier..."

He was mumbling under his breath, but Trevelyan managed to hear at least some of his grumblings.

"I've never really followed orders from anyone, you know. Even if you did order me to sleep, well, I'd just refuse. I'm obstinate like that. Most people find it endearing. I suppose it could be a little grating though... sorry."

Cullen continued in silence for a moment until he saw the fires of the forge burning up ahead, then turned to address her. She was looking a little sorry for herself, so he decided to lighten the situation a little.

"Well, admitting your problem is the first step to overcoming it, I suppose. You're on the right track. Come on, let's sharpen that dagger."

He tugged her hand and pulled her over to the sharpening stone, silently thanking the Maker that the forgemaster wasn't there to witness him holding hands with Trevelyan. In the firelight she looked even more breathtaking. He might just let her sharpen the dashed thing by herself because the way things were going he was going to end up launching himself at her before this night was through. He sighed and started browsing through the various upgrades that were available for the Keep as Trevelyan sat by the grindstone. Hopefully after she finished sharpening the dagger and they returned it to the Map room she would happily just trot off to bed without accosting him further. Then again, he actually was starting to enjoy her... interest in him. He hadn't entertained thoughts like this toward anyone else at the Keep, and he now knew that she was definitely attracted to him, well... His mind returned to some of the fantasies he'd had about her when he was alone, in the dark of night. He whispered her name so fervently when he was alone, but he couldn't even call her it to her face. He was a coward, indeed. He was broken from his reverie by her voice, calling HIS name, which she seemed to have no trouble doing.

"Cullen? Can you give me a hand?"

He moved away from the table and saw her collecting a large number of hilts, blades and bow-pieces. Maker, what was she doing NOW? He grabbed the heavy pile of bits and pieces from her arms and dumped them on the ground next to the forge.

"What's all this, then?"

Trevelyan stood proudly with her hands on her hips, surveying her pile of supplies, then looked up at him.

"Well, sharpening Cassandra's dagger has inspired me. I'm in the mood for some crafting!"

Cullen's shoulder's slumped, and he closed his eyes once more. For the love of...

"Maker, help me... Let's get crafting then."

It was going to be an even longer night. But at least she wasn't sad anymore. Or throwing herself at him. What was the harm in crafting a few things?

END OF PART 02

So I finally finished part two, and now it looks like it'll be a three parter after all. Sorry for the delay, but during the Christmas holidays I'll have a bit more time for writing and will hopefully get this and the other couple of Inquisition based fanfics done then! Until then, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire out!


	3. Chapter 3

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

Previously...

"Cullen? Can you give me a hand?"

He moved away from the table and saw her collecting a large number of hilts, blades and bow-pieces. Maker, what was she doing NOW? He grabbed the heavy pile of bits and pieces from her arms and dumped them on the ground next to the forge.

"What's all this, then?"

Trevelyan stood proudly with her hands on her hips, surveying her pile of supplies, then looked up at him.

"Well, sharpening Cassandra's dagger has inspired me. I'm in the mood for some crafting!"

Cullen's shoulder's slumped, and he closed his eyes once more. For the love of...

"Maker, help me... Let's get crafting then."

It was going to be an even longer night. But at least she wasn't sad anymore. Or throwing herself at him. What was the harm in crafting a few things?

Now...

Trevelyan paced before the pile of crafting materials, muttering to herself as she seemingly picked up bits and pieces at random then dropped them once more and resumed pacing. Cullen stood off to the side, leaning against one of the sturdy wooden work tables, his arms crossed. He couldn't decide whether he was more amused or annoyed at this newest turn of events. Trevelyan deciding to craft things wasn't the worst thing in the world, and hopefully it would help tire her out, but it was getting later and later. Cullen assumed from the position of the moon that it was well after midnight by this point. He would usually be in bed by ten-thirty for a five-thirty in the morning start. Not that he ever fell asleep at ten-thirty, of course.

He usually lay awake for a good hour or so thinking about Trevelyan and the things he'd like to do with her, thoughts he would never share with anybody. The Chantry sister's had always lectured the boys about what would happen if they did exactly what Cullen was doing alone in his bed at night, terrifying them with tales of blindness and pieces of themselves falling off. So far, though, Cullen's eyesight was still perfect and the only thing he felt was slightly more sated when he eventually fell asleep. He could write that one Chantry lesson off as a lie. He was coming to grips, very slowly, with the fact that not everything the Chantry told everyone was necessarily the whole truth. He was still a believer in the Maker, obviously, because only He could have created such a marvellous yet flawed creature as Trevelyan.

The marvellous yet flawed creature was currently scratching her head, still perusing the pile of crafting material. She sighed loudly and slumped to the floor, clutching some steel in one hand and a sharpened hilt in the other. She glanced at the pile again, then looked back at what she held in her hands, and groaned in consternation.

"Ughhh... Where do I start? If everyone's equipment is as dull as Cassandra's what should I do? How could my companions be so un-prepared for battle? This is an utter disaster..."

Cullen moved away from the table and squatted beside her, patting her shoulder lightly.

"I'm sure it's not that bad, My Lady. Cassandra's dagger was only her secondary weapon, I'm fairly certain her long sword will be as sharp as her temper."

Trevelyan snickered, still perusing the scattered materials before her.

"You're quite funny, you know. I never realised that before. Perhaps I wasn't paying enough attention..."

Cullen picked up a piece of iron at random and started turning it over in his hands.

"Is it alright if I'm funny occasionally?"

Trevelyan didn't look up from the materials in her hands, but nodded.

"Of course. It makes you more... approachable. More human. I used to look at you as some kind of battle god, the perfect embodiment of everything strategic and war-like. Then I noticed your scar, and realised that you could be hurt too, just like everyone else. I've caught you smiling at some of Varric's jokes, so I knew you had a good sense of humour, or at least a sense of humour that was close to mine. I've seen you training with some of the younger recruits as well and... well, let's just say, I found it hard to turn my gaze from you. And now I know you can make jokes as well."

Cullen's hands stilled as he listened to her. She'd been watching him for as long as he'd been watching her, apparently. That made him feel a little better, and a little less like a perverted old man. Though he still didn't really know how old she was, he knew she was a lot younger than he was. Perhaps if she knew that he was already halfway to forty years old she'd lose interest and move on. He decided to just come out and ask her.

"How old are you, Trevelyan, if I may ask?"

Trevelyan had dropped the steel and swapped it for a chunk of silverite and seemed a little happier with her choice, when she finally looked up and made eye contact with him.

"I'm twenty-seven, Cullen, you know that. Though actually, I'm almost twenty-eight."

She leaned forward, conspiratorially, her breasts accidently brushing against his arm as she moved closer to whisper in his ear.

"Don't you dare tell anyone how old I am, or I'll make you suffer."

Cullen stiffened when she didn't move away immediately, her body still rubbing up against his as her breath tickled his ear.

"How would you do that, exactly..."

He hadn't thought. The words had just tumbled from his lips as he'd relished the feel of her soft curves rubbing up against his side. How would she make him suffer, indeed. How would she make him suffer MORE than this was the real question.

"Well, firstly, I wouldn't talk to you for a couple of days. Then, secondly..."

She stopped to think and Cullen nudged her lightly in the side.

"Secondly...?"

She cleared her throat and looked at him with a serious frown on her face,

"Secondly, I would refuse you entrance to my bedchamber for a week..."

Cullen choked and started coughing, trying to hold back a surprised chuckle. Maker's Breath, this woman...! Her eyes widened, and she put a hand on his arm, concerned.

"Oh, Cullen, I was kidding. I could never refuse you..."

She'd shuffled in front of him, looking up into his eyes, her hands now resting on both of his forearms. Maker, she looked so earnest... He didn't know when his right hand had moved up to rest on her cheek, but there it was, and she was leaning into his touch, her eyes closed and a small happy smile flitting across her lips. He found himself moving in toward her face, and with her eyes closed he studied it with abandon. Her long, black lashes that curled slightly at the ends, her flawless alabaster skin, the strands of hair that lay across her forehead... He pushed a few of the strands back behind her ear and she sighed and leaned into his hand even more. His eyes were drawn to her pretty pink mouth, and his tongue darted out to moisten his own lips, as if in anticipation for a kiss... What was he thinking? He changed the angle of his approach and kissed her forehead, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin beneath his lips, and how he could feel her breath hitching against his neck as she breathed out when his lips made contact with her skin.

"Trevelyan... You'll be the death of me..."

Her eyes fluttered open, and her grasp tightened on his forearms.

"Cullen, why won't you kiss me...?"

He couldn't help it. His eyes bored into hers, and she gasped at the intensity of his gaze.

"Later, Trevelyan. I'll kiss you properly later..."

She blinked prettily, her eyes still slightly unfocused, and nodded. He moved back, eyes still locked with her hers, until he turned away and looked back out over the waterfall and into the darkness. This was... safer. Looking away from her seemed to be the only way he could control himself at all right now. He heard her moving around behind him, grabbing things from the pile of equipment, hammering and smelting, crafting to her heart's content, even starting to hum again. He stood there for a good hour, looking out into the darkness until he heard her voice call him out once more.

"You know why I love this place, Cullen?"

He didn't turn around completely, just his head to the side so she knew he was answering. Enough to be polite.

"The whole of Skyhold, or just the Undercroft, My Lady."

He'd gone back to his polite way of addressing her. No more utterances of Trevelyan, it was far too familiar. She may have sighed when she noticed this, but he was too far away to tell.

"The Undercroft. The forge is always lit, any time of day or night. I could literally come down here any time, and just craft away for hours. It's amazing."

Cullen couldn't help smiling at her exuberance. Maker, but she could be adorable sometimes. He decided to divulge one of his personal secrets to her, something he'd kept from her since he'd met her.

"You know, it was my idea to keep the forge burning twenty-four hours a day. I knew you returned here at random hours after your quests and liked to craft things, and I thought the best thing was to keep the forge alive all the time in case you wanted to use it."

He still couldn't see her, but he sensed that she'd stilled by the lack of hammering and clunking coming from behind him.

"You... You did this for me?"

She sounded dumbfounded, or at least a little shocked. He knew he couldn't look at her, so he stayed where he was, half in shadow and still turned away.

"Yes, My Lady. I believe... I believe I've been watching you as long as you've been watching me..."

He heard a giggle from behind him, but still didn't turn.

"That makes me rather happy, I think. That such a handsome man has had his eye on me... I hope I haven't done anything embarrassing."

Cullen hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath after that last confession until he released it in a silent 'whoosh'. She didn't mind that he'd been watching her. He may as well tell her his age and be done with it, just to get the age difference out in the open. Not that she'd remember any of this, surely. He decided he might try and approach her with the same confessions when she wasn't all hopped up on sleeping potions and see if her reactions were the same. He certainly hoped they'd be.

"Does it matter to you that I'm so much older than you?"

He heard her starting to hammer again behind him, then the hammering paused for a moment as she thought of an answer.

"You're only thirty-five. Turning thirty-six if my sources are correct, meaning you're only eight years older than me. That's really not much when you think about it. Besides, I've always liked more mature men. They always seem to know what they want, and how to take it, or make it happen. Why do you think I let you order me about, Cullen? I like it when you tell me what to do."

She didn't even seem to realise what she'd said. He leaned against the railing, hoping that the cool night air would help him with his 'situation', but he knew that if he turned around right now, even got a glimpse of her eyes or lips right now, there would be no going back. If he'd been in his chambers he'd have taken the problem in hand, so to speak, but he was in a public area, albeit an almost unpopulated area bar Trevelyan. There was no way he was going to relieve his discomfort here. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? He hoped she didn't, because if she was making him feel like this on purpose it was needlessly cruel. Her hammering had ceased again after she'd answered his question, and it sounded like she'd started stacking her newly finished weapons in one area so they weren't in a massive muddle in the middle of the floor. Her voice rang out again, and he grimaced, still trying to get his own body under control.

"Cullen, if I wanted to craft myself a new set of daggers, what would the best material be?"

Trevelyan had started picking through the now diminished pile of materials she had originally gathered, but the left-over contents were rather meager. Cullen answered without hesitation.

"Dragonbone, obviously. It's extremely strong, quite light, you can add runes and special materials to it to create magical effects. It's your best option, My Lady."

Trevelyan dropped the piece of obsidian she was holding and placed her hands on her hips, gazing around the crafting area.

"Right then, dragonbone it is! Now where do we keep the dragonbone, I wonder..."

Cullen smiled to himself, and started chuckling as she started searching through the chests around the edges of the Undercroft, searching for the elusive material. She eventually stopped, and looked up at him with a bemused expression on her face.

"What's so funny?"

Cullen grinned at her and gestured out into the darkness.

"You're wondering where the dragonbone is stored. Mostly it's stored inside dragons."

Trevelyan walked up to the railing beside him and looked out into the night, echoing his stance.

"So, if I want to obtain some dragonbone to create my new twin daggers, I'm going to have to kill a dragon."

Cullen nodded, still refusing to look at her. The warmth of her beside him was enough to distract him again. Maker, this was getting ridiculous. Discussing dragons and the dangers in hunting them might be enough to bring him back, though.

"Not just a dragonling either. One of the High Dragons. Their bones aren't mature enough until they're fully grown."

Trevelyan slapped her hands down on top of the railing, and looked across at Cullen, resolute.

"Where's the closest dragon, then?"

This was enough to make him look at her again. Was she serious? This had to be the Harlot's Blush acting up again. He remembered Solas mentioning something about acts of bravado and wondered if this counted as one. He raised both hands and held them up in front of him in a 'calm down' formation.

"You can't be serious, it's the middle of the night! Have you ever fought a dragon before? One person can't bring one of those beasts down, you need... at least three others. Even the dragonlings are tricky little bastards, especially when they start breathing fire at you. You can always be sure, wherever there's a High Dragon, there will be scores of those miniature monsters there to help it out. And don't get me started on the half-grown ones..."

Trevelyan was looking at him with a look of exasperation that grew worse with every preventive word he uttered. She eventually crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"Have you fought one?"

Cullen stopped, mid-rant, and leaned back against the railing.

"Dragonlings, yes. A fully grown dragon, yes, but with a group of Templars at my back. A High Dragon, no. But I do know a couple of people who have fought High Dragons and won."

Trevelyan was still scowling, but she was also listening with interest.

"Who?"

Cullen smiled to himself as he thought of the other two great heroes he'd never had a chance with. Perhaps this time it would be different after all.

"The Hero of Ferelden and The Champion of Kirkwall, of course. I think between them, they killed about... five High Dragons. Oh, except one of those was the Archdemon, and another one was the Witch of the Wilds in dragon form. Actually, I think one of Hawke's kills was actually a mature Wyvern, rather than a dragon, and those things are much worse, with the charging and the spitting poison..."

Trevelyan's mouth had dropped open again, while listening to him discuss her two 'role models' as she referred to them. Both female and both rogues, he knew she looked up to them as aspiratory figures. It didn't hurt to remind her that he'd known both of them in the past. It might even put her more at ease around him, he hoped. Though, of course, she didn't need any help with that right now.

"If they managed it, I should be able to do it too. I just need the right group. And I also need to find a dragon, of course."

She started heading to the passage that led back to the main hall, and Cullen yawned as he began trudging after her once more. She remembered to grab Cassandra's now sharpened dagger from the table where she'd left it, as they headed back up to the Map room. She walked by his side, still stealing small glances up at his profile, but this time she didn't even try to hold his hand. Maybe she'd realised she wasn't actually dreaming, finally. Cullen stifled another yawn, and was suprised to feel her hand on his forearm all of a sudden. He looked across at her, and stopped walking when he noticed the contrite look on her face.

"Cullen, I'm sorry I'm keeping you up. I mean, I know we're usually in bed by now, but, the way I've been feeling lately... I had to do something just for me. The Inquisition is my life now, I have this strange mark on my hand that's not going anywhere, Leliana almost died and because of that I've lost my nerve, and on top of all that I realised I'm the last of my Father's line and I'll have to take on all the responsibility that comes with that as well. I'm losing myself, and I'm scared. I've never had to do anything like this in my life before. I've never had to be in charge of anything, that's what my brothers were for. They did all the organisational things, and I stepped in when they needed a rogue. I don't even know if I'm doing a good job. How do you know if you're a good leader?"

Cullen stepped in front of her, and planted his hands on both of her shoulders. She looked up at him, the sadness and confusion still clear on her face.

"You know you're a good leader if people follow you, Trevelyan. If people willingly take up arms and stand by you in a fight, without being co-erced or bribed, that's when you know. Almost all of the men and women working for the Inquisition are here of their own accord. They could leave at any time with no fear of retribution, but they don't because they believe in you and your leadership. The people of Ferelden and Orlais believe in you. All of your companions and advisors believe in you."

Trevelyan raised her hands to her shoulders and covered Cullen's with them, holding them in place.

"Do you believe in me?"

Once again his hazel eyes bored into her own, and he could see a deep pink blush starting to rise in her cheeks. Maker, she was beautiful.

"Of course. Do you even need to ask?"

He pulled her into his chest and hugged her, trying to make her feel a little better. He hadn't even given a thought to how she must be feeling about her position in the Inquisition. He had had to fight his way up through the ranks like all good soldiers and Templars to get to where he was today, as had all of the other advisors and companions. They were all leaders in their own right, and here they were being led about by this naive young thing who'd never led anything in her life before. Certainly she'd made a few mistakes in the beginning, but recently everything had been running quite well. There had been minimal deaths on their side, and they had closed quite a few rifts. They had gained new recruits, and Skyhold was starting to look like a headquarters to be proud of, all thanks to Trevelyan's hard work. The Redcliffe incident had put everybody on edge. The small woman in his arms had tentatively wrapped her own arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

"I... Thank you, Cullen. I think I needed that. Nobody has given me a hug like that in months, not since my brothers... well, you know."

Her hands were sliding up and down his back, and he could feel a smile forming on her face even against his chest.

"Always a pleasure, Trevelyan. You must be feeling better if your hands are starting to wander."

She gasped at his bold reply, then chuckled softly.

"I was just thinking, this is the first time I've ever seen you not wearing armour. I quite like the look on you, it makes you less... formal. In all my other dreams you appear in my room wearing your full suit of lion armour, which you look amazing in of course. I guess that's just because it was my first impression of you, in full regalia, giving orders and looking at me in a rather non-plussed manner."

Cullen raised an eyebrow, but continued holding her, his fingers weaving in her hair.

"I may look good in it, but I would never wear armour while trying to sneak into somebody's chambers with a specific plan to bed them. There'd be far too many time consuming buckles and belts to undo, and then there's the noise factor. All that heavy metal clunking to the floor, it's a mood killer, I'll tell you."

Trevelyan had started giggling, and with her relatively cheered up, Cullen backed off, moving out of arms reach. Solas hadn't been kidding about side effects. Cullen decided to tell Solas to add mood swings to the list of side effects that this particular sleeping draught could bring on. Then again, he might just tell Solas to never, ever create this particular potion ever again. That may be the better option. Trevelyan smiled at him and held out her hand, and he took it, weaving his fingers through her own once more. She pulled him into the Map room where she plunged the dagger back into the table, then headed back out into the corridor. Instead of moving down the hall in the direction of her chambers, though, she began pulling him outside.

"Come on! We're going to scout out the best and quickest route for me to find a dragon tomorrow. I need those new daggers, and I'm going to get myself some dragonbone, Maker help me!"

Cullen had glanced at the clock in the Map room and had groaned inwardly. It was almost two in the morning, and she still didn't show any signs of slowing down. He knew that if she fell asleep she'd have nightmares, but surely there was some way that he could distract her enough so that she'd be thinking of something else rather than the dark tidings that usually awaited her in her dreams. Perhaps fixating on dragons would help, or thinking about the new daggers she'd be making. He decided to try talking about the daggers first...

END OF PART 03

OK, so now the game's actually dropped we know about the whole Redcliffe thing, and... yeah... But I'm not going to re-write or edit because this storyline is running from that arc (The one that we thought was happening, without revealing any spoilers from the game). My in-game romance with Cullen is going swimmingly, by the way...

Part 4 will be ready shortly - be prepared for adult situations! As always, read, review and enjoy :-)

Foxfire out!


	4. Chapter 4

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who has yet to be created in game but already lives in my head. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

Previously...

Trevelyan smiled at him and held out her hand, and he took it, weaving his fingers through her own once more. She pulled him into the Map room where she plunged the dagger back into the table, then headed back out into the corridor. Instead of moving down the hall in the direction of her chambers, though, she began pulling him outside.

"Come on! We're going to scout out the best and quickest route for me to find a dragon tomorrow. I need those new daggers, and I'm going to get myself some dragonbone, Maker help me!"

Cullen had glanced at the clock in the Map room and had groaned inwardly. It was almost two in the morning, and she still didn't show any signs of slowing down. He knew that if she fell asleep she'd have nightmares, but surely there was some way that he could distract her enough so that she'd be thinking of something else rather than the dark tidings that usually awaited her in her dreams. Perhaps fixating on dragons would help, or thinking about the new daggers she'd be making. He decided to try talking about the daggers first...

Now...

"What are you going to name them?"

Trevelyan stopped dead in her tracks, both eyebrows raised high.

"What?!"

Cullen had stopped walking when she'd frozen, but now resumed, gently tugging her outside.

"What are you going to name your dragon daggers? What did you think I was talking about?"

Trevelyan's cheeks were burning a deep red, and she was refusing to make eye-contact with him. Whatever thought his comment had triggered, it must have been either a very good one, or a very, very bad one.

"Nothing! My, uh... my mind wandered. Let's just go, shall we!"

Trevelyan had resumed the lead, heading out the main entrance of the hall and down the stairs leading into the main courtyard. She pulled him out through the main gate and stood on the small hill beside the heavy gate, peering out into the darkness. She sighed and pulled him back inside the gate, looking up at the battlements, her head cocked to the side.

"I was going to name them Mr Pointy and Mr Stabby. Then I realised that would be a bit daft."

Cullen snorted out a laugh, and sneaked a sideways glance at her face. She was sneaking a sideways glance right back at him, a small grin flitting across her lips.

"So, what did you decide to name them instead?"

Trevelyan continued looking up to the battlements, as if gauging their height.

"You know how I do that special attack with my daggers, Twin Fangs? Well, I was thinking maybe I could name them Fang One and Fang Two."

Cullen's laugh this time was more of a bark than a snort, and Trevelyan was also giggling.

"That makes them sound like characters from a children's story! Fang One and Fang Two, flitting about doing the bidding of a magical Nug in boots or some such thing!"

Trevelyan's lips had tugged up into a wide smile as she looked up at the roof of Cullen's tower, possibly one of the highest parts of the battlements.

"Oh Cullen, not a Nug, those things are disgusting! I was thinking more along the lines of a Fennec in a hat. An Inquisitor hat."

Cullen rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, and smiled.

"You could be thought of badly for spreading tales of the Inquisition through children's stories though. Mass indoctrination of the youths of Thedas, things like that."

Trevelyan walked over to the wall closest to Cullen's tower and looked it over, appraising it for something, he just wasn't sure what.

"Most children's stories are like that though. Badly masked tales of royalty and governments, officials renamed to hide their identities. I wouldn't be surprised if Varric hasn't already started penning some. I've seen some of his new book chapters floating about through the library already. I can't understand why he named my character something as ridiculous as Wynter Frost. I guess it has kind of a romantic air to it, but seriously? Wynter Frost! At least your character's name is close to yours: Commander Coulton, ex-templar and commander of the Inquisition's armies. I think he even mentioned your lion armour at one point. Come to think of it, that's not really masking your identity at all..."

Cullen groaned, remembering the multiple copies of 'The Eye in Inquisition' that he'd burned in the library earlier, then paused.

"Wait... do you like Varric's books?"

Trevelyan nodded, now tapping and pushing at the bricks in the base of the tower as if testing their strength.

"Oh yes, I love them. I specifically travelled to Kirkwall once just so I could get the last three volumes of 'Hard in Hightown'. It's pathetic, I know, but when you really like something you go to great lengths to achieve your goals."

For some reason, that last sentence seemed to reverberate through Cullen's being. Going to great lengths to achieve one's goals... Even if it was getting the next volume in a book series, or sealing every fade rift in Thedas, Trevelyan didn't seem to have an issue with going to any lengths to achieve the Inquisition's goals. She'd only been with them for a few short months, but didn't seem to have a problem with any of the tasks asked of her. She obeyed without question, acted without fear, and returned victorious every time. He wasn't ashamed to admit that his heart leapt every time he saw her returning to Skyhold, with that happy smile and relaxed swagger as she wandered through the Keep, greeting workers, companions and advisors alike. She didn't act like an almighty Inquisitor or the holy Herald of Andraste, she treated everybody as equals and only asked to be treated fairly in return. Trevelyan was an anomaly. He only wished he'd met her before all of this to see if she was any different before the incursion at the Conclave. While he was lost in thought, he hadn't noticed that she'd started to climb the wall that led up to his tower.

"Um, Trevelyan, there are stairs you know."

She was about six feet up the wall and concentrating with all her might, but she still managed to answer.

"Stairs are for the regular folk, Cullen. I'm a rogue. Sera, Cole and I spend countless hours climbing up and down the walls of this place. Well, Sera and I do, Cole just sort of appears when we're at the top already, I don't know if he actually climbs up or if he just... fade-steps there. I don't think he'll ever tell us either, he just kind of gives us this mysterious smile when we ask him. He's odd that way."

As Cullen watched her climb, his eyes invariably fell to her shapely hips swaying as she made it past twelve feet up and got closer to the base of his tower. She was climbing rather high, and was under the influence of hallucinogens. Maker, should he stop her? She seemed to be climbing with no problem though. He'd leave her to it.

"Yes, Cole. He is rather odd... I'm still quite wary of him, but then again, I don't really have that much to do with your Inner Circle."

Trevelyan barked out a laugh as she climbed, now past twenty feet above him.

"I think I'd quite like you in my 'Inner Circle', Ser Cullen. Though you seem to be quite against the idea this evening."

Cullen blushed, realising how she'd taken his innocent phrase and twisted it, then re-glued his gaze to her climbing figure. Almost thirty feet above the ground now. Something heavy thumped down into the ground next to his boot with a dull thud. He looked down and noticed a large chunk of stone. It must have shaken loose from the wall. He looked back up and his breath caught in his throat. Trevelyan was hanging by one hand, her legs dangling and her other hand struggling to find a hold in the stones before her. She was almost thirty-five feet up now, and a fall from that height would not be good, even for someone with her luck. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with panic. The only thing he could do was catch her.

"Let go. I'll catch you, Trevelyan. Just let go. Trust me."

Her eyes locked with his, and she nodded, almost imperceptibly. And with that, she let go of the wall, without a sound. Her fall seemed to last forever, at least by Cullen's counting, as he positioned himself below her flailing figure and made ready to catch her. Her slight frame landed in his outstretched arms, and he clutched her to his chest, afraid of what would have happened if she'd been out here by herself. He carried her, princess style, back into the Keep, and headed directly to her quarters. One of her arms had curled around his shoulders, playing with the short hair at the base of his neck, while the other rested lightly against his chest. She was so light. The woman desperately needed a good feed, and a good rest. She'd had the feed this evening, true, even though it had only been a meagre feast of banana pancakes, but it was better than nothing. Now she needed a sleep, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd indulged her long enough.

"Cullen? Where are you taking me?"

He refused to look at her, his eyes focused only on the door that led to her chambers, and making sure no-one saw him carrying the Inquisitor in such a shameless manner.

"To bed, Trevelyan. To sleep, before you can ask."

Her fingers continued to play in the hair at the back of his neck. It tickled him in a pleasant manner, but he couldn't think about that now. She could have died falling from that wall. There was no more time for games. She sighed and buried her face into his shoulder. He could smell her hair, and it was quite lovely, but no, he couldn't think about that either. The primary objective was to get her to sleep.

"I'm sorry I frightened you. I've never fallen from that wall before. I've climbed it loads of times."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't digress from his path. He made it to her door and fumbled with the knob, finally pushing it open with his foot.

"You could have died, falling from that height onto the stones beneath. What were you thinking?"

She sighed again, her breath once more tickling against his throat.

"This is only a dream, Cullen. You can't die in dreams."

The hallway was dark, but he managed to maneuver his way towards her door with her still enclosed in his arms. When he eventually opened the door to her chambers there were only a few candles left flickering as the rest had burned down to stubs. The low, flickering light made the room all the more romantic. He released his grip on her body and slid her feet to the ground so she could stand, then moved back, trying not to become enraptured by the flickering light dancing across her face. She stifled a yawn, and Cullen had to stop himself from making a victory fist. Was she finally starting to get tired? Thank the Maker! He started backing toward the door, hoping to sneak out before she noticed, but she turned and looked at him, confusion playing across her face.

"If you're feeling tired, My Lady, I'll leave you to your rest. Pleasant dreams..."

He trailed off when he saw the look of utter despair that had fallen across her face, just before she turned and looked out the window. He didn't move any closer to her, just stood there silently and waited for her to speak.

"Do you know how many people we've lost to the Inquisition's battles so far, Cullen?"

Cullen scratched the back of his neck, trying to recall the number off the top of his head, to no avail.

"A hundred or so. I can't recall the exact number."

Trevelyan continued gazing out the window, looking out at the darkness.

"One hundred and sixty-eight. We would have lost more, but for my closing the rifts. All of those soldiers we lost between Haven and Skyhold, due to their injuries while fighting the red templars and the archdemon. I've learned all of their names, you know. I recite them to myself before I go to sleep every night, and end the list with the phrase 'never again'. I personally wrote letters to all of their families, explaining how they died with Thedas' best interests at heart. They were the bravest of souls. And they died for the Inquisition. They died for us."

Cullen stared at her, the curve of her neck, the flickering light reflecting off the side of her face. She really did care about everyone, to a fault. If thinking on their deaths was encroaching on her sleep, she really did need a few more distractions thrown at her. He almost wished there were more normal fights for her to deal with to take her mind of the Inquisition. If the maker could throw a few more easy bandit fights her way, that would be great. Trevelyan sighed, and turned to face him.

"I sometimes wish though, that the fade rifts won't go away, and that I'll be stuck with the Inquisition a while longer. Do you know why?"

Cullen stared at her, a slight frown between his eyebrows.

"No... I can't see why anyone would want to stretch out this horror..."

Trevelyan smiled up at him sadly, unshed tears glittering in her eyes.

"As soon as the last rift is closed, and the last enemy destroyed, when peace is finally restored to all of Thedas... I'll have to go home. I'll have to take on all the responsibility of being the scion of the Trevelyan family. I'll have to wear pretty silk dresses from Orlais, curl my hair, follow every ridiculous society rule just to please my parents. Eventually I'll be forced to marry some insipid foolish Bann's son and start a family of my own. I'll never be able to speak a word of all the adventures I had, with all of the amazing people I've known here. A proper lady never takes up daggers to defend herself, she is defended by others. I'll have to pretend for the rest of my life."

Cullen remained where he was, but his hand stretched out towards her of it's own accord.

"Surely they could be made to understand..."

Trevelyan chuckled and started unbuttoning her jacket, making ready for bed. Cullen turned around hurriedly, his cheeks beginning to burn again, but found himself watching her reflection in a mirror behind him. He could see the round curves of her flesh slowly being revealed to him as she pealed the remaining layers off, left standing only in her small clothes. He could see the defined muscles in her legs and arms, the candle light flickering off the many small scars she had on her body, probably from scuffles years ago when she was still acquiring her skills. Even with these many small imperfections, Cullen thought she was the most stunning creature he'd ever seen. Every single insight he'd received into her psyche this evening had been a marvel, and he now understood that his feelings were not just the blind infatuations of a man unschooled in the ways of love. He was definitely developing genuine feelings for Trevelyan. The fact that she was so beautiful didn't hurt, either.

He closed his eyes when he saw her fiddling with the back of her corset, almost revealing her bare chest to him in the process. Some things had to remain personal, and he still had to hold on to the shreds of his gentlemanly nature. When he opened his eyes again and turned around, she was wearing a plain white cotton undershirt that hit her at mid-thigh, the neck laces missing so it hung wide on her shoulders, baring one entirely. That shirt looked entirely too familiar though... Indeed, there was a tear that he himself had sewn up because he hadn't wanted to force extra labour on any of the servants at Haven. Maker's Breath! She was sleeping in one of his undershirts! He felt himself starting to throb again, as he couldn't tear his eyes away from the vision before him. A beautiful woman, draped only in one of his own pieces of clothing, baring so much skin... He closed his mouth, which he hadn't even realised had fallen open, and locked his jaw, but he still couldn't drag his eyes away.

"Where... Ahem, where did you get that shirt?"

His voice, usually a mid-range timbre, had fallen a couple of octaves to an almost gravelly growl. Trevelyan picked at the hem of the shirt, raising it up another inch or so. This was absolute torture.

"Oh, this old thing? Sera said she found it, left out in the woods where the washing gets done. 'It seemed such a waste to leave it there', she said, 'since it's been so well looked after'. I agree actually, it's one of the most comfortable garments I've ever owned. Why?"

Sera. He should have known. Small things, insignificant things to some, had been disappearing all over Skyhold lately. It would appear that the leader of 'The Friends of Red Jenny' was getting bored. He'd really liked that shirt, too. Still, it did look quite lovely on its new owner. He'd unconsciously moved closer while she'd been explaining herself, and she was back within arms reach again. He wanted to know how her skin felt beneath his shirt, he wanted to touch all of her at once, but he was still hanging onto the thought that she wasn't in her right mind at this moment and would hate him later if he acted on any of his ridiculous whims.

"No reason. It looks good on you."

Her cheeks turned that lovely shade of pink again, and she looked down at her now bare toes.

"Ah. Thank you. Now, as we were saying earlier... You were saying that surely my parents could be made to understand. Clearly you haven't met my parents. Anything that's not properly done is not worth doing in the first place. When, not if, but when I leave the Inquisition, and take up my place as heir of the Trevelyan family, I'll have to leave this life behind completely. Speaking of battles and killing and demons while trying to win a husband just isn't the done thing. If I don't come across as a sensible young noble woman with the ability to run a household, I won't be able to fulfill my mother's wishes. I mean, what man could possibly want a woman like me...?"

Cullen closed the distance between them with one quick step, hooked a finger under her chin to bring her face up, and gently placed his lips upon hers in a soft kiss. Trevelyan's eyes widened, then fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms around her, entwining his fingers through her hair. Cullen angled his head to right slightly and deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue across her lower lip, begging entrance to her mouth. She gasped, and with that slight opening of her lips, Cullen saw his opportunity. Trevelyan sighed into his mouth, her body relaxing into his as she allowed him his sweet exploration. He honestly didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually he drew away, stroking one hand down her right cheek as her eyes blinked open slowly, gazing up at him slightly dazed.

"I want you, Trevelyan. Any man that couldn't want you the way that you are, without changing you, isn't worth knowing. Your parents are wrong."

Trevelyan looked up at him, her head angled to the left.

"Say that again."

Cullen blushed slightly, his hand still on her cheek. He leaned forward and whispered directly into her ear.

"I want you, Trevelyan."

She shook her head, even as her blush deepened.

"Not that, even though I do very much like the fact. Say the other thing again."

Cullen smirked, and moved in closer to capture her lips again. To the void with being a gentleman! This is what they both needed, both wanted.

"Your parents are wrong..."

Trevelyan wrapped her arms around Cullen's shoulder's, and he lifted her off the ground, spinning them around so he could lean her against the stone wall beside the window. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her, deepening their kiss once more and creating a marvellous friction between their bodies. She pulled back from the kiss first this time, leaning her forehead against his, breathing heavily.

"Cullen, I have a request..."

Her sentence melted into a moan as his lips made contact with her neck, nipping at the soft skin where her bared collarbone had been tempting him.

"What is it, My Lady?"

His murmured reply brought her skin out in goosebumps.

"Could you please call me by my name? My first name."

Cullen smiled into the side of her neck, and kissed his way up to her ear, tickling her earlobe with his nose as he leaned in closer to her.

"Of course... Lilah..."

She moaned again as his lips touched her ear. He whispered her name again as he ran feather-light kisses from her ear back across to her mouth. Every time he uttered it, it became easier for him. Every time he said it, she seemed to very much enjoy it as well. He could feel her thighs tightening around him, drawing him ever closer to her warm core. He could feel her starting to untuck his shirt from his trousers, and something nagged him in the back of his mind that this was a bad thing, but he pushed the thought away.

"Take this off. I want to see you."

He was only too happy to acquiesce to her request. He leaned back, far enough to remove the shirt, but not enough to break contact with her hips. He threw the offending garment to the floor, and tried to close back in to kiss her again, but found her hands resting against him. He glanced up at her face, and noted the fact that she was staring at his chest in awe.

"Sweet Maker... I need to give my imagination a special treat for coming up with this..."

Her hands were running up and down his body, exploring his well-formed pectoral and abdominal muscles, trying to search lower... No. There was one line he wouldn't cross tonight. He re-directed her hands to his back, as he pushed her harder into the stone wall and plundered her mouth once again. She stifled a groan into his mouth, as his tongue entered her mouth again, this time not as gently. Her own tongue warred with his, and his hips ground against hers as he increased the friction between their bodies. The minuscule movements she'd been making against him started to become more bold, and he could actually feel himself starting to sink inside her as his member became harder and her body became more accustomed to his. Thank the Maker he was still wearing his trousers and small clothes. She pulled her mouth away from his with a gasp, and gazed into his eyes.

"Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Cullen cupped one of her breasts through the thin cotton shirt, running his thumb over the pebbled peak which was almost visible through the low neckline, and lowered his face to kiss her alabaster flesh, drawing yet another moan from her.

"The Chantry."

Lilah's head fell back against the stone wall as he continued his ministrations, her eyes closing and mouth curving into a soft smile as one of her hands moved to play through his hair.

"You and I clearly went to very different Chantry's..."

Cullen raised his eyes from his 'work' and looked up at her. She looked so happy, so relaxed... Maybe he should have just done this from the start, and she would have fallen asleep at a reasonable hour and... No. This was the only way the night could have possibly played out. Without banana pancakes, hot chocolate, crafting, dragons and regrets about death and family, he wouldn't have ended up with the Inquisitor in his arms. Oh, and the sleeping potions. The blasted sleeping potions. He almost growled in annoyance when he remembered again that she would be writing off this entire night as a dream, while he would be remembering every touch, every kiss, every sensation, and knowing it all really happened. His hips pushed harder into hers, pushing her back hard up against the wall, making her gasp and grasp his upper arms more firmly.

"Lilah..."

The apology he'd about to utter died on his lips when he saw the fire alight in her eyes. Instead, he thrust forward into her again, her legs tightening around his waist. He dug his fingers into her thighs and pushed into her again, and she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the sounds escaping from her. Her legs had started to tremble again, and he could feel her rubbing against his member with a renewed fervor. He thrust forward one more time, and felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as she bit into his flesh, stifling yet another round of pleasured moans. Cullen hissed as he felt her teeth pierce his skin, then strangely felt himself grow even harder as he felt her pulsing around him, even through his trousers. This was... unexpected. He hadn't thought he'd be able to bring her to her... height of pleasure without being inside her, completely. Clearly the stories that the other templar recruits had regaled him and his fellows with in their youth had been completely made up. That was definitely what was happening right now though.

She released a shuddering breath against his neck, and he could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. The small puffs of air across his throat warmed his flesh, bringing a soft smile to his lips as he relished the feel of her relaxing in his arms. He could feel her hands ranging over the muscles in his back, and when he looked back up to her face... Maker. Her lips were puffy and redder than usual from their prolonged explorations of each other's mouths, and her eyelids blinked at him heavily, half-shading the deep green pools of her eyes which were now calm and utterly enraptured with his.

"Cullen..."

He leaned forward, gently this time, and recaptured her lips, removing his hands from her thighs and wrapping them around her waist. Their hips, still aligned, were now still. Cullen could feel her legs shaking with the aftershocks of her release, and knew that she wouldn't be able to maintain their position against the wall for much longer. He swept her up into his arms and carried her to her bed, placing her reverently beneath the covers. He retrieved his now wrinkled red shirt from the floor and shrugged back into it, then sat himself on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to speak. She didn't speak, however, she just looked at him with slight bewilderment in her eyes. She looked... utterly adorable. He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to kiss her forever, but he knew he'd have to leave this room at some point. He contented himself with pushing a few of her stray hairs back behind her ear, and leaning his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of her skin as he did so.

"Cullen... Is this actually happening?"

His eyes sprang open, and he pulled back, surveying her face. She looked confused, but not upset, like she was desperately trying to figure out if she was dreaming the entire situation or not. She was giving him an easy way out. He could tell her right now that everything that had happened between them had actually happened, that his feelings were real, that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. He could tell her right now that he wanted to spend the rest of his life bringing her to the height of her pleasure, just so he could see that fulfilled look on her face. He suddenly remembered the look on her face when she'd first seen his bare torso, and wondered what look she'd have for him if she saw the rest of his body. He hoped she'd be just as pleased. He took a deep breath, then stopped. The damnable sleeping potions. His hands turned to fists in the bedclothes, and he sighed, pulling back.

"You know this is just a dream, Lilah. Do you think I'd actually act without restraint like this in reality? As much as I'd like to..."

Lilah pulled him close again, pushing her lips hard against his, meshing her fingers into his hair, eventually pulling him down on top of her onto the mattress.

"I don't think I want this dream to end, then."

Cullen didn't even make an effort to pull back this time. If this was what the lady wanted, who was he to refuse? The feel of her sweet lips against his was a torture he could endure until the end of time. This time it was her tongue begging entry, and he was only too happy to grant her access. It could have been minutes, days or hours, Cullen couldn't tell how long that tender kiss instigated by Lilah had gone on, but eventually her hands loosened from his hair and and her lips fell slack, as she drifted off into a deep, and hopefully dreamless, sleep.

Cullen crept from the bed, afraid that any large movements may awaken her, and slinked quietly towards the door. Thankfully, it opened silently, and he closed it just as silently behind him. He wished there was some way he could lock it behind him, because every fibre of his being was telling him not to leave that room, or that bed. He leaned his forehead against the heavy wooden door and sighed, then turned abruptly and began walking back down the corridor to the main hall. The bite mark on his shoulder was beginning to throb a little as well. He didn't want to wake any of the healers, but there was definitely a certain elven apostate who owed him a huge favour...

Cullen marched up to Solas' quarters and pounded on the door, hopefully loudly enough to awaken him from any Fade dreams he was involved in. A few seconds later, the rather bleary eyed mage opened his magically locked door, eyes widening when he saw the rumpled condition of the ex-templar.

"Goodness, whatever happened to you?"

Cullen pushed past him into the room and flopped unceremoniously into one of the chairs at Solas' table. Solas shrugged to himself and sat in the other chair facing him, waiting for him to speak.

"Never let her do that again, Solas. Never, ever give her an overabundance of sleeping potions, hallucinogens, don't even offer her a strong tea."

Solas' face fell, and he nodded somberly.

"It was that bad? I'm very sorry for making you go in my stead. I must seek your forgiveness, Commander."

Cullen sighed, and pulled his shirt away from his shoulder, showing the once more bleeding wound.

"Make this stop hurting and we're square."

Solas squinted at the wound on his shoulder, then his eyes widened.

"Is that a bite mark? She attacked you? How in Thedas did she manage to get you in that spot?"

Cullen rubbed a weary hand across his brow, and closed his eyes, slouching forward in the chair.

"That's none of your concern. Just clean the wound, disinfect it and stop the bleeding. I want to keep the scar."

Solas went to his potions chest, still pondering how a woman almost a full head shorter than Cullen managed to bite him in that particular spot, and came back to start patching him up.

"I could just remove the entire wound with a healing spell."

Cullen glared up at him, holding the neck of his shirt open, waiting for him to administer the salve in his hand.

"I told you I want to keep the scar. Stop asking questions."

He stifled a yawn, and barely winced when Solas applied the poultice to the tender wound, no more questions asked. When he was done, Solas cleared his throat politely.

"If that was all, Knight Captain...?"

Cullen paused, just before he walked out of the room, and turned back around.

"I don't suppose you have any sleeping draughts left. NORMAL sleeping draughts. I think I may need one, after the night I've had."

Solas reached into the pocket of his robe and brought out a small purple draught in a bottle.

"From the look of you when you walked in, I assumed you might be needing one. I'll trust you to administer it to yourself. Good night, Knight Captain."

Cullen accepted the small bottle, and nodded his thanks, leaving the room. After the door closed behind him, Cole appeared in a small flurry of dust and smoke.

"I don't understand Ser Cullen at all."

Solas nodded a greeting to Cole and set about climbing back up the ladder to the small perch he slept on.

"Why's that then?"

Cole sat on the edge of the table, swinging his legs, watching Solas climb.

"He was so happy just now, playing with the Inquisitor. Then his happiness disappeared as soon as he left her bed. How can someone's moods change so quickly?"

Solas nearly fell back down the ladder.

"Maker's Breath!"

Playing with the Inquisitor in bed? That would explain the bite mark then. Solas chuckled as he regained his footing and climbed the rest of the way back up to his bedroll. No wonder the man wanted to keep the scar. He'd make sure that nobody disturbed Ser Cullen on the morrow, either. The poor man looked like he needed a good nights rest.

END OF PART 04

Yes, there is a part 5. It's on it's way. I'm two weeks out from holidays so I should be able to knock it out then, along with the other six various fan fics I've been working on. 'Tis the season and all that! As always, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire Out!


	5. Chapter 5

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who is currently breaking heads and taking names while tearing around Thedas. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

Previously...

"Cullen... Is this actually happening?"

His eyes sprang open, and he pulled back, surveying her face. She looked confused, but not upset, like she was desperately trying to figure out if she was dreaming the entire situation or not. She was giving him an easy way out. He could tell her right now that everything that had happened between them had actually happened, that his feelings were real, that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her. He could tell her right now that he wanted to spend the rest of his life bringing her to the height of her pleasure, just so he could see that fulfilled look on her face. He suddenly remembered the look on her face when she'd first seen his bare torso, and wondered what look she'd have for him if she saw the rest of his body. He hoped she'd be just as pleased. He took a deep breath, then stopped. The damnable sleeping potions. His hands turned to fists in the bedclothes, and he sighed, pulling back.

"You know this is just a dream, Lilah. Do you think I'd actually act without restraint like this in reality? As much as I'd like to..."

Lilah pulled him close again, pushing her lips hard against his, meshing her fingers into his hair, eventually pulling him down on top of her onto the mattress.

"I don't think I want this dream to end, then."

Now...

Lilah blinked awake slowly, and stretched languorously as she sat up in bed. What an amazing dream! An entire evening in the company of the handsome Commander, culminating in seeing him shirtless (finally), kissing for what had seemed like hours, and having him pressed against her in the most intimate of embraces... She sighed happily and fell back against the pillows, grinning like a fool. The light pouring into the room fell across the pillows where her head was now situated. She squinted at the windows, realising that it was a lot brighter than it usually was when she woke up...

"Oh, Balls! Balls!"

She'd slept in. She hadn't been expecting to sleep at all, yet here she was, still a-bed when it was clearly getting close to lunch time. She tried to leap out of bed, without much success, as a dull aching pain started through her arms and legs as soon as her feet touched the floor.

"I must have been sleep-fighting, or something?"

Her arms and legs weren't the only parts of her that felt a little tender though. There were a few small reddish marks on her upper chest, and a slight throbbing in her nether regions. She'd had vivid dreams about being with Ser Cullen before, but had never been left aching like this before. Then again, maybe she'd tried to bring herself pleasure while asleep, and had been slightly rougher than usual? As her feet hit the floor, and before she could start pulling her sleep shirt off, she heard the soft sound of a throat being cleared from the vicinity of her desk. She stopped, hem of the shirt in hand, and noticed Solas sitting in the large chair behind her desk, smiling at her softly.

"How did you sleep, Trevelyan?"

Lilah's brows knitted together slightly, confused, but she nodded a greeting.

"Quite well, I think... Why are you in my room Solas?"

Solas stood up, and moved to sit beside her on the bed.

"May I?"

Trevelyan nodded and shuffled sideways, allowing him more space.

"Thank you. I'm glad you are in a better mood than last night. I thought you'd never acknowledge my presence again."

Trevelyan chuckled and reached down, taking his hand in hers. There was nothing romantic about the gesture, but with that easy touch they both knew that there were absolutely no lasting problems with their friendship.

"I should be begging your forgiveness, Solas. All you did was try to help me, and I abused your trust. I promise I'll never do it again. Never, ever give me another sleeping draught, even if I beg you for it. Don't even offer me a strong tea."

Solas barked out a laugh, and looked out at the bright light coming in through the windows. Lilah looked at his profile, a smile tugging at her lips.

"What's so funny?"

Solas sighed and patted her hand, releasing his grip and standing up.

"Somebody said almost that exact same thing to me last night. I promise I'll be more careful when dealing with your various medical needs. And I hope that you'll never slap me again."

Lilah drew a small cross over her heart, grinning.

"I promise I'll never slap you again. Unless it's really, really called for."

Solas smiled and turned away, gesturing for her to get dressed while he was looking away. Lilah took the hint and quickly whipped the shirt over her head and changed into her civilian outfit. It was too late to head out adventuring at this time of day. Not when it was almost time for lunch. She tapped Solas on the shoulder when she was done changing and started down towards the door that led to the main hall. She stopped, however, when he caught her arm with a slightly odd look on his face.

"Trevelyan... Errr... You'll be needed in the Main Hall as soon as you leave your chambers. Apparently a few strange things have occurred overnight throughout Skyhold."

Lilah sighed, and rubbed her hand over her forehead.

"Oh dear. Has Cole been moving things about again?"

Solas shook his head, and looked more earnestly into her eyes.

"It definitely wasn't Cole, he was chatting to me for most of the evening. It wasn't Sera either, because I left her fairly deep in her cups in her room at the Tavern. Varric isn't the type of Rogue who does this sort of random thing either, and I know for certain that he's working on another chapter of 'The Eye in Inquisition' and refuses to leave his writing corner."

Lilah's lips tightened into a grimace.

"So it's not any of the usual suspects. Damn, looks like I'll have to live up to my title and get Inquisitorial."

She moved towards the door again, and was surprised when it refused to budge to her touch. Solas reached out a hand, there was a pale yellow flash of light, and the door swung open. Lilah looked back at him, bewildered.

"Why was my door magically sealed, Solas?"

He smiled and moved through the door before her, beckoning her forward.

"I didn't want anyone to interrupt your rest, Trevelyan. Maker knows you needed it..."

He was cut off as Josephine burst through the door leading to the Main Hall, her eyes wild and her usually neat bun slightly askew.

"Oh, thank the Maker, you're finally awake! I've had to deal with everyone and they just won't leave me alone until they get answers! Answers that I don't have, mind you! It's been exhausting!"

Solas smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"See what I mean? Have a good afternoon, Trevelyan."

He sauntered out through the open doors of the Main Hall and into the courtyard, disappearing into the light. Trevelyan thought about chasing after him for a few short moments, but the distraught look on Josephine's face brought her back to reality. She grabbed Josephine's hands and looked into her eyes.

"Breathe, Josie, breathe. Now tell me what's going on."

Josephine took three deep breathes, then smoothed her hair back behind her ears.

"Ahem. There have been reports of strange... happenings, from all around Skyhold. They must have occurred last night, or very early this morning when everybody was sleeping. Or by someone very stealthy."

Lilah sighed, ready for the usual criticism of her trade.

"So you think it was one of our Roguish friends."

Josephine raised both of her hands in a warding-off gesture.

"I don't want to point any fingers, Herald, but it does seem most likely to be one of them. Probably Sera or Cole. I'd put my money on Cole. As the saying goes, 'Never bet against an Antivan'."

Lilah shook her head and sighed.

"Fine. How should I approach this? How many people have complaints?"

Josephine grabbed her ever present writing board and checked the list.

"I believe the easiest way would be for you to wait on the Throne and I'll let them come to you one at a time."

Lilah sighed and started walking toward the Inquisitor's Throne, fashioned from the skull of a dragon. It was quite possibly the least comfortable chair she'd ever sat in. She hoped the list wasn't particularly long.

"Inquisitor, these are a few of the kitchen staff. Apparently someone was cooking food when they were all asleep and left a terrible mess. Dirty utensils, fires left burning, ingredients strewn all over the preparation tables. They are not very happy."

The three cooks did indeed look rather surly, standing in the throne room instead of their comfortable kitchen where they belonged. Lilah was barely paying attention however. She'd startled as soon as the complaint had been voiced. She'd dreamed she'd been in the kitchen last night, with Ser Cullen. Dreams don't leave actual messes in kitchens though.

"Ummm... What sort of food had the, uh, perpetrator been cooking?"

The male cook stepped forward, wringing his chef's hat between his hands.

"It looked like a simple pancake mixture, M'lady. Possibly banana pancakes as there were a few bananas left on the prep table. Why?"

Lilah sheepishly raised her hand.

"I'm so very sorry, good cooking staff, but I think I may have been the person who committed this crime. I missed dinner last night, and I was so very tired. I meant to clean up after myself, but I must have taken myself to bed before I had the chance... Sorry."

Trevelyan trailed off, hoping the kitchen staff would accept that ridiculous excuse as an apology. The cooks all exchanged smiles amongst themselves, and the male cook stepped forward again.

"Just try and remember to extinguish the fire next time you make yourself a midnight snack, M'lady. We can't have Skyhold burning down for the sake of a few banana pancakes now, can we?"

Lilah nodded emphatically.

"No sir, we cannot. I'll promise to wash up my utensils next time too. You have my word. Was there anything else?"

The cooks had all started backing out of the hall, edging back towards their familiar surroundings.

"No, M'lady. Thank you for seeing us, M'lady."

Lilah gave them a slight smile and waved goodbye.

"Not a problem. Please speak to me again if you have any other issues."

The kitchen staff all but fled. Josephine clicked her tongue and ticked off one of the names from her list.

"Who's next, Josie?"

Josephine scanned the list, and picked the next most important name.

"Forgemaster Harritt."

Lilah gripped the arms of the throne a little tighter. Harritt... She'd also dreamed about going down to the Undercroft with Ser Cullen and crafting a pile of weapons as gifts for her Inner Circle. And sharpening Cassandra's dagger. Maker, had this actually happened as well. Her fingers remained white knuckled as Harritt approached the throne.

"Inquisitor, look, I'm not angry or anything, but somebody crafted a stack of weapons and just left them in a heap on the floor. Good quality stuff too, some of it turned out to be Masterwork when I looked through it all. It just means that somebody was into the stores when nobody was around and some of the rare bits and bobs might need to be replaced..."

Lilah's face was on fire. That's what it felt like at least. Crafting a pile of weapons would definitely explain her sore muscles, but she'd only dreamed that she'd gone down to the Undercroft. It hadn't actually happened, had it? If it HAD actually happened, then every thing else she could remember from last night might have happened to. Sharing those deep glances with Ser Cullen, the shameless flirting, the constant touching, the eventual kisses and her final memory of pulling him down into her bed... Maker.

"Inquisitor?"

Lilah sighed wearily and raised her hand again.

"It was me, again. I felt like some crafting after I ate last night. My apologies Forgemaster Harritt, it won't happen again, I promise."

Harritt chuckled, shaking his head.

"No need to apologise, Herald. In fact, I think you show great potential as a 'smith. Maybe when this whole mess is over I can train you up, give you a proper respectable career to fall back on."

Lilah laughed out loud, relaxing a little in her seat.

"I might just need that! Thank you, Harritt. You've cheered me up a little."

Harritt bowed, smiling.

"All in a day's work, Inquisitor. I'll move those new weapons to a safer location and make a list of any supplies we're running short on."

Lilah smiled back and nodded.

"Good day, Forgemaster."

Harritt turned and walked back to the door that led to the Undercroft, waving over his shoulder.

"Good day, Inquisitor."

Josephine sighed and ticked off another name on her list.

"Herald, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Lilah had stopped smiling, after Harritt had closed the door to the Undercroft behind him, and had returned to staring into space and blushing. If it had all actually happened... Maker's Breath! She'd had Ser Cullen half naked in her chambers, pushing her up against the wall, kissing her, touching her, pleasuring her... But he'd tried to convince her that it had only been a dream. Why hadn't he told the truth? She'd had her eye on him since the first day she'd seen him, never expecting him to return her feelings. She remembered every word they'd exchanged during the evening, and he's been nothing but a gentleman. If anything, SHE had been entirely too forward. Maybe it had something to do with all the sleeping draughts she'd taken, on top of being over-tired and over-stressed by the Redcliffe situation. Something SHE'D said, though, had tipped him over the edge and he'd been the one to finally grab her and...

"What?!"

Josephine glanced up from her writing board at the Inquisitor's rather loud response, and noticed her red cheeks.

"Herald? Trevelyan, are you alright?"

Lilah covered her eyes with both hands and sighed loudly.

"I'm fine, Josie. Apparently I had a few adventures last night. I... wasn't feeling the best. Redcliffe really messed about with my sleeping patterns. I believe I took an over-abundance of sleeping potions and I was suffering the after-effects last night."

Josephine covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes widening.

"Oh my... Are you... well, today?"

Trevelyan, still with her eyes covered, chuckled softly into her hands.

"Yes, Josie, I'm much better today. Thank you for your concern. Who's next then?"

Josephine checked her list, then glanced up.

"Would you care to take a guess, Trevelyan?"

Lilah dropped her hands into her lap and threw a long-suffering look at the ambassador. Josephine shrugged and looked nonchalantly back down at the list.

"Scout Harding."

Lilah noticed that Josephine was shooting her a questioning sideways glance. She gave an almost imperceptible shrug in return. As far as she could remember there hadn't been any run-ins with Scout Harding the previous evening. The dwarven scout walked confidently up to the throne and gave Lilah a cheery salute.

"Inquisitor."

Lilah nodded back in greeting.

"Scout Harding, always a pleasure. What can I help you with today?"

Scout Harding clasped her hands behind her back, her usual stance when giving Lilah a scouting report.

"We returned to Skyhold fairly early this morning, just as the sun was coming up actually, and noticed some odd loose rocks lying on the ground beneath Commander Cullen's tower. On closer inspection, we recognised them as some of the masonry that makes up the wall leading up to the battlements. There are spaces in the wall matching the fallen stones if you look hard enough. It would appear someone was trying to scale the wall, possibly to steal something from the Commander's office. We advise someone looks into the matter as soon as... possible...?"

Lilah sighed and slumped down further into the uncomfortable throne. Josephine sighed and ticked Harding's name off in her log.

"That was actually me. I was testing the structural integrity of our internal stonework, and I took a little tumble. It would appear it needs rather a lot of work. Sorry for troubling you, Scout Harding."

Harding's look of confusion only deepened.

"But Inquisitor, those rocks fell from quite a great height. Looking at the mess and the depth the stones sunk into the earth, there was no way anyone who fell from that height would have walked away from it uninjured..."

Lilah narrowed her eyes.

"I landed on something soft."

Harding's eyes narrowed back as she thought this over.

"What could you possibly have landed on? There's nothing soft in the area..."

Lilah thought quickly.

"There... was a cart. Full of hay. Very strategically placed, I might add. And so I am left with a few bruises and my slightly mangled pride. I put the cart back near the traders, where I assume it should have been in the first place."

Harding nodded, seemingly placated.

"That makes sense, I guess... I'm glad you're alright, Inquisitor."

Lilah smiled back, relieved that her hurried explanation seemed to have worked.

"I'm glad too. Was there anything else, Harding?"

The scout shook her head, and stifled a yawn.

"No, that's everything. Now I'm off to sleep for the rest of the day. Good day, Inquisitor."

Lilah smiled warmly at her favourite scout, as she turned and walked back out of the main hall, heading out towards the tavern.

"Have a good rest, Scout Harding. You deserve it."

Josephine sidled up to the throne, eyebrows raised.

"In the middle of the night, for absolutely no reason, you decided to scale Commander Cullen's tower."

Lilah gazed back at her advisor, her expression blank.

"Yes. What of it?"

Josephine's mouth twisted into a smirk.

"To test the stonework's 'structural integrity', was it?"

Lilah raised an eyebrow, and smirked in return.

"One can never be too careful. If the stonework isn't dwarven, it's just not good enough."

Josephine sighed and looked back down at her list, shaking her head.

"That's your story, and you're sticking to it, I assume?"

Lilah straightened up in the throne, looking directly ahead.

"Yes indeed."

Josephine perused the list, and moved forward to call out the next name on the list. Lilah hoped the small crowd gathered in the hall were just gawkers and not actually there to complain.

"Former Grand Enchanter Fiona."

The diminutive elven mage stepped forward, walking toward the throne with the grace Lilah was used to seeing from her. A few of the remaining people in the room dropped curtsies and gave her nods in greeting. She returned their nods with a smile, but had eyes only for Lilah. Josephine watched a look of confused bewilderment come across the younger woman's face.

"Do you have any idea why Fiona's here?"

Lilah fought back the urge to scratch her head and moved closer to whisper back.

"Not a clue, Josie."

Lilah sat up straighter in the throne, hands resting on the arm rests. Mages still gave her the willies. At least SOME mages did. Dorian, Solas and Vivienne she was slowly becoming used to. The former Grand Enchanter however... To have someone of that power in the room... Thank the Maker she was on their side. Fiona was now standing before her, a soft smile resting on her lips.

"Inquisitor. I trust today finds you well?"

Lilah shifted in the chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"Best I've felt in days, actually. What can I do for you, Fi... Uh... Grand Enchanter?"

Fiona chuckled and waved a hand at her.

"Don't get flustered, my dear. 'Fiona' is just fine. I am no longer the Grand Enchanter, as you well know."

Lilah's cheeks grew pink, and she looked down.

"Very well. What can I do for you, Fiona?"

Fiona sighed, clasping her hands in front of her.

"It's only a small thing, really. Last night, after we had all retired to the Mage Tower to sleep, somebody must have come into the library. This morning we discovered a few burned pages of books in the dying embers of the fireplace. It would appear someone was burning literature in the late, or early, hours."

Lilah sat forward, fingers tented under her chin. How could anyone burn a book? Books were sacred!

"Was anything important lost? Could you tell? Was there much left?"

Fiona sighed, and rubbed her forehead.

"Here's the reason why it's only a small concern, My Lady. They were all copies of 'The Eye in Inquisition'. We sorted through the ashes, and all we could find were multiple copies of Varric's books. Someone around here must not be a fan."

Lilah looked back at the elven mage, completely confused.

"That doesn't make sense."

Fiona sighed, unclasping her hands.

"I know. Everybody loves Varric's books. Even the mages."

Lilah looked, disbelievingly, into Fiona's eyes.

"Even you?"

Fiona chuckled, moving back from the throne, taking her leave.

"We are all allowed our little indulgences, my dear. I follow Wynter Frost's adventures as avidly as the next person. It's just a little sad that someone felt they had to destroy something that helps people escape this dark time, even if only for a few brief hours."

Lilah nodded.

"I'll let Varric know. Someone has to tell him. It might as well be a friend."

Fiona stepped forward again, and leaned in, conspiratorially.

"One more thing, my dear, completely unrelated to the book burning. A message: Find him. Find him and tell him. He'll understand."

Lilah's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

Fiona smiled, then turned and walked out of the hall. Josephine walked up beside the throne and crouched beside it, leaning one elbow on an armrest.

"So, I take you weren't the one burning books in the library last night?"

Lilah turned and looked at her, frowning slightly.

"No. That's why it didn't make sense. I wasn't anywhere near the library last night. From memory I went from the map room to the kitchen, back to the map room, down to the Undercroft, back up to the map room, outside to look for dragons..."

Josephine sat back on her heels.

"Ah ha! So that's why you were climbing the battlements, to look for dragons."

Lilah clutched Josephine's arm in relief.

"Yes! See? Nothing untoward was meant by my climbing that particular tower..."

Josephine grinned.

"You mean Cullen's Tower."

Lilah's cheeks started to turn red again.

"Yes, Cullen's tower. Stop calling it that."

Josephine's grin widened.

"But that is what it is. Cullen's Tower. You were climbing Cullen's Tower. I bet you've been wanting to climb Cullen's Tower for some time now..."

Lilah's cheeks were burning, as Josephine's dirty double meaning sunk in.

"Maker, stop!"

Josephine started giggling, as she stood up and moved away from the throne.

"I also bet it was sweaty work, climbing... that particular Tower."

Lilah had also started giggling by this point.

"Josephine! You're awful!"

Josephine checked her list one last time, then looked back up at Lilah, raising a single eyebrow.

"It will happen one day, I bet on it. You know the saying..."

Lilah sighed, still smiling.

"Never bet against an Antivan?"

Josephine clicked her tongue, and nodded.

"That's the one!"

Lilah slumped back down into the throne, trying to get some feeling back into her rear end.

"Maker help me..."

Josephine sat on the edge of one of the wooden benches facing the throne, finally resting her feet.

"So after you went looking for dragons, where did you go?"

Lilah knew exactly where she'd gone after she'd been looking for dragons, and with whom, but there was no way in the world she was going to tell Josephine that. She still wasn't one hundred per cent sure it had all happened. She had to find Ser Cullen, and grill him for the details. That was even if she could make eye contact with him.

"I went to bed, actually. I think I'd finally tired myself out."

Josephine was still looking up at her, curiously.

"At about what time would that have been?"

Lilah cocked her head to the side, thinking.

"I guess around three-thirty, four o'clock maybe. Why?"

Josephine smiled to herself, and stood up. At about four-thirty in the morning she had been awoken by a soft scrabbling at her door and a note being pushed under it, written in the neat hand of their elven mage, Solas. It had explained that Lilah was not to be disturbed until at least mid morning due to medical reasons. An addendum also said that Commander Cullen was feeling under the weather and he was not to be disturbed until he emerged from his rooms under his own volition. Josephine couldn't help but wonder if the two maladies were linked somehow. The odd timing of the note seemed to suggest this. She hadn't opened her door to pursue the mage and ask him, but she assumed if he'd taken the trouble to write her a note, it must be abided by. She'd passed on the message to Leliana at breakfast, and then had met with the barrage of complainers as soon as she'd entered her office. This was the first peace and quiet she'd had all day.

"No reason, Trevelyan. No reason at all, other than my own curiosity. I believe we've reached the end of your list of troubled hold-folk. You'd best grab yourself some lunch at the tavern, and might I suggest... having a relaxing afternoon?"

Lilah blinked, happy with her reprieve.

"I... thank you, Josie. I know there is more to be done, but I think I do need to let my mind settle a little. I'd also like you to call the War Council together later this afternoon. I think I'd like to see which operations need attending to."

Josephine nodded, once again all business.

"As you wish, Inquisitor. Shall we make it for the same time as yesterday?"

Lilah stood up from the throne, the bones in her back cracking as she stretched out her aching muscles.

"Sounds good, Josie. Thank you. I'll let everyone else know to meet us in there, too. I think I need to allay some fears amongst my Inner Circle."

Josephine nodded and started to head back to her office, writing down a few notes on her board as she walked. The woman could multi-task like nobody else. Lilah jumped down off the platform and almost scurried out into the sunlit courtyard. She'd go out, and chat with all of her companions. That should waste a couple of hours, at least. Then maybe catch up on some of her paperwork, or go to the garden and check on the herbs. Maybe pop into the Chantry and pray for the strength she'd need to face Ser Cullen across the map table during the War Council meeting. Oh, Maker... This was not going to be an easy meeting.

END OF PART 05

So that's Part 05. Part 06 is on its way, as are a few new fics, some of which are Inquisition related, a couple more Fables related ones, and a fairly epic Skyrim thing that's been kicking around in my head for a while and I finally started writing it up. Thinking up stories is easy, it's the whole 'typing them up' thing that takes time and effort. Thank goodness I was given so many bags of sweets for Christmas. I also baked a heck of a lot of cookies just to keep me going. And then there's the booze... So anyway! Merry Christmas Everybody! As always, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire Out!


	6. Chapter 6

I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes) - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cullen/Inquisitor)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who is currently breaking heads and taking names while tearing around Thedas. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

So just as a warning or whatever, Cullen's not in this chapter much, either. I did seem to end up writing a LOT of Cole, though. Hopefully that worked out alright. Also, it turns out I really like a Blackwall/Josephine pairing. Just sayin'.

So it turns out this is actually a really long chapter featuring little chats with all of the companions. I was going to break it in half, then then I thought... Nah. Best to just get the whole thing out of the way, then back onto the Cullen goodness in chapter 7.

Also I think I need to thank all the people who have followed and favourited so far. You guys are the reason I'm still writing this. I love you all. Happy New Year. :-)

Previously...

"I believe we've reached the end of your list of troubled hold-folk. You'd best grab yourself some lunch at the tavern, and might I suggest... having a relaxing afternoon?"

Lilah blinked, happy with her reprieve.

"I... thank you, Josie. I know there is more to be done, but I think I do need to let my mind settle a little. I'd also like you to call the War Council together later this afternoon. I think I'd like to see which operations need attending to."

Jospehine nodded, once again all business.

"As you wish, Inquisitor. Shall we make it for the same time as yesterday?"

Lilah stood up from the throne, the bones in her back cracking as she stretched out her aching muscles.

"Sounds good, Josie. Thank you. I'll let everyone else know to meet us in there, too. I think I need to allay some fears amongst my Inner Circle."

Josephine nodded and started to head back to her office, writing down a few notes on her board as she walked. The woman could multi-task like nobody else. Lilah jumped down off the platform and almost scurried out into the sunlit courtyard. She'd go out, and chat with all of her companions. That should waste a couple of hours, at least. Then maybe catch up on some of her paperwork, or go to the garden and check on the herbs. Maybe pop into the chantry and pray for the strength she'd need to face Ser Cullen across the map table during the War Council meeting. Oh, Maker... This was not going to be an easy meeting.

Now...

Lilah trudged to the tavern, still not a hundred per cent convinced that she'd almost, for want of a better word, shagged Ser Cullen the previous night. The throbbing in her nether regions had ebbed, thank goodness, but all of her other muscle pains were still fairly bad. Harritt had confirmed that she's been crafting weapons last night, the kitchen staff had confirmed that banana pancakes had been cooked, and Harding had confirmed her little jaunt up the wall. The only one that could actually confirm what had happened with Ser Cullen was the man himself, and he seemed to be making himself somewhat scarce, today of all days. She'd asked Varric to join her in the tavern for lunch, so she could break the news about the destruction of his works in a comfortable space. With many people around, so he couldn't make too much of a scene, hopefully. She'd left him in his writing corner, picking up all of his bits and pieces to bring them to the tavern instead. He wouldn't be too far behind her though. She wandered up to the bar, and ordered two tankards of mead and two serves of the stew of the day, labeled 'venison' in commas. She didn't want to think about that too hard.

Varric sauntered into the tavern, amidst cheers and rounds of applause. Apparently almost everyone present was a fan. That might work in her favour. He sat down at the table across from her, just as their 'venison' stews arrived, and their mead tankards placed carefully beside them.

"What's the problem, Lize? You were so serious when you asked me over here. Wait wait wait, is this a confession of Love? Will Wynter Frost finally have a love interest in my next chapter? Please tell me that's it?!"

Lilah barked out a laugh and punched him lightly on the arm.

"Varric! I'd never come between you and Bianca, perish the thought!"

Varric placed both his hands over his heart, and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank the Maker, my chastity remains intact. But what did you call me out here for? I'm in the middle of writing a great chapter, what with The Steel Ox becoming all serious with his religious beliefs conflicting with his new relationships..."

Lilah chewed on her lip, trying to figure out how to break the news gently. To the Void with it! Varric was an adult.

"Listen, Varric... It was brought to my attention that late last night, or possibly this morning, someone burned a great many copies of your latest series in the library fireplace. I'm so sorry."

Varric sighed, and scratched his chin.

"It's only to be expected, I guess. Not everyone's going to be a fan. Still, I feel bad for the printers, all their hard work gone up in smoke."

Lilah looked at him, slightly confused.

"I thought you'd be madder than this."

Varric gave her a lopsided grin and punched her back on the arm.

"Oh, I'm completely livid, Lize. I just have an incredibly charming angry face. I still have all the original texts, I can get them printed again, at my own expense, and recirculated. Nothing to lose any sleep over. Speaking of which... How are you doing? Cassandra was rather..."

Lilah grinned, rubbing some feeling back into her arm and taking a deep swig of her mead.

"Cassandra-ish?"

Varric scooped up a mouthful of the mystery stew, grimaced and swallowed it.

"For want of a better descriptor, yes."

Lilad put down her tankard, and started eating her own bowl of mystery stew. It wasn't that bad actually.

"I'm fine, Varric. I'm better than fine. In fact, I've called another War Council meeting for this afternoon, and all of you are invited. I think I've regained faith in myself. Hopefully."

Varric looked up from his bowl and smiled.

"We all believe in you, Lize. Don't ever forget that. Now hurry up and eat, the colder this stuff gets, the less palatable it becomes."

They finished their lunch in a companionable silence. As they were about to stand up and leave, there was a slight gust of wind, and Cole suddenly appeared, sitting beside Varric.

"Maker's Breath!"

Varric almost sprung out of his seat, then once again covered his heart with one hand.

"You've gotta stop doing that, Kid! You'll give me a heart attack!"

Cole looked seriously at Varric, peering at him from under his large, floppy hat.

"There's nothing wrong with your heart, Varric."

Varric stood once more, and bowed slightly to both of them.

"It's a figure of speech, Kid. Just... stop jumping out and scaring people like that. I need to go anyway, so I will see you at the meeting this afternoon. Same time as yesterday, I assume? I have to contact my printers in Kirkwall, let them know there's been an increased demand in the first few volumes of 'Eye'. Maybe they'll give me a discount, seeing as I'm their best customer..."

He left the tavern, leaving Cole and Lilah at the table by themselves. Cole perched on the bench, birdlike, now peering at Lilah as she finished her stew.

"It's Nug."

Lilah looked down into the almost empty bowl, horrified, and back up at Cole.

"What? The stew? Oh Balls... Why didn't you say something earlier?!"

Cole looked down at his fingers, breaking eye contact.

"I didn't want to interrupt you while you were eating. You seemed to be enjoying yourself..."

Lilah dropped her spoon and sculled back the last of her mead, trying to get the unfamiliar stew taste out of her mouth.

"I was enjoying the company, not the food!"

Cole snickered softly under his breath, watching her antics. Then his face grew serious again

"I just wanted to thank you, Lilah Trevelyan, The Herald of Andraste, The Inquisitor."

Lilah placed her tankard back on the table, and glanced at him, curiously.

"Thank me? For what?"

Cole peered into her eyes, still perching birdlike on the bench across from her.

"You could have blamed everything you did last night on me, but you didn't. Josephine thought I did it. You could have just agreed, it would have been so much easier than dealing with all of those people. You didn't though. You admitted it all, even though it was embarrassing. Why?"

Lilah looked at him, and smiled.

"Why would I blame you for something I did? We're friends, Cole. You don't blame your friends for the ridiculous things that you do yourself."

Cole looked down at the floor, then back to his hands dangling between his legs, then back up at Lilah.

"Friends. I'm glad we're friends. Can I call you Lilah, then?"

Lilah reached over and took one of his hands in hers, giving it a squeeze. He startled, then smiled softly and gave it a squeeze in return.

"Of course, Cole. I'd be delighted if you called me that."

He took his hand back, and looked at it. Then he looked back up, his eyes fully revealed as his hat slid back a little on his head.

"Lilah, I need to ask you something, but I don't know if it's a private question. Solas has been trying to teach me the difference between private and public, but I still haven't gotten a proper grasp on it."

Lilah leaned forward, a serious look on her face. Cole could be very childlike sometimes.

"You can ask me anything, Cole. I don't mind."

Cole lowered himself to sit on the bench properly, feet now resting on the floor, as he leaned forward to ask his question softly.

"When Ser Cullen left your room last night, why was he so conflicted? I could sense his thoughts from the tavern..."

Cole stopped speaking. He stopped speaking because Lilah had grabbed his hand so tightly his knuckles had popped.

"You saw him? You saw him there? That means that he... that WE... Oh, Balls!"

She rested her head on the table, then started banging it slightly against the wood, each hit accentuated with an utterance of the word 'Balls'. Cole reached out and stroked her hair, not really knowing what to do in this kind of situation.

"I've made you upset. I tend to do that. Sorry. Would you like me to leave?"

Lilah stopped hitting her head and just let it rest on the table, eyes gazing at nothing. This pretty much clinched it. She'd taken advantage of Ser Cullen, somehow.

"Please don't leave. Just tell me how much you saw, or what you saw. Anything at all. Please, Cole."

So he told her. He told her about the kitchen, the Undercoft, the map room, scaling the wall. He'd pretty much been following them all night. Then his speech faltered. Lilah gave him an encouraging look, so he took a deep breath and continued.

"I see him carrying you, to your chambers. He was so afraid when you fell from the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. He wants to seem angry, so he refuses to speak to you, but he relishes the feel of you in his arms. He struggles with the door, but he doesn't want to let go of you, so he perseveres. He wants you to go to sleep, then you say something that makes him want to comfort you. He turns away so you can change your clothes, but he spies your reflection in the mirror and he can't look away, eyes drinking in flesh, precious, pale, perfect. He recognises the shirt as one of his own, the vision is so alluring he wants to touch you but he holds back once again. Then you say something that spurs him into action, and he kisses you, touches you, presses you against the wall, wishes to take you completely but once again he is held back by a single thought..."

Lilah had sat back up at this point, cheeks flaming, but hanging on the young man's every word. It HAD actually happened.

"What was the thought? What kept holding him back?"

Cole closed his eyes, concentrating.

"All I can see is a small glass bottle with a purple liquid in it. Every time he wanted to push his advantage, this thought held him back. That's all I see, sorry."

Lilah reached out and took Cole's hand in her own once more, giving it a squeeze.

"Thank you, Cole. I needed to know all of this. Seeing as Ser Cullen isn't making himself available today, at least I now know that what I thought happened actually happened. And that what's left of my virtue is still intact."

Cole looked away, his face turning toward's Ser Cullen's tower.

"His thoughts are still muddled, but they are full of memories of you. He tries to sleep to forget, he chastises himself for being weak, but he also longs for your touch again. He fears he'll go mad if you refuse him, as he will never push his luck like that again. He considers his options if he has to leave the Inquisition because working beside you and not being able to be with you would be too much. He realises he's falling in love, and it scares him, because he's never been in love before and the emotions that come with it... My... My head hurts..."

Cole trailed off, staring at the table.

"That was too much, wasn't it. I'm sorry. I think those were his private feelings, and I just made them public. Solas will not be pleased with me."

Lilah's cheeks were bright red again. Ser Cullen had proper feelings for her? He was beginning to fall in love with her? She still barely knew anything about him, she didn't even know his full name. As far as she knew, he didn't know her full name either. He knew about her family, but she knew nothing about his. She was definitely physically attracted to the man, but she couldn't possibly be falling in love with him yet, could she? The memories from last night rose to the forefront of her mind again, his tender first kiss, his fervent whisper of her name, telling her he wanted her, her fingers threading through his hair as his kiss had deepened... She'd have no problem partaking in all of that again. She just had to get to know the man better before admitting to any deeper feelings. Cole reached out, hesitantly, and rested a hand on her forearm.

"You're confused too, aren't you?"

Lilah gazed at the worried young man before her. Cole truly was an enigma. She found it hard to think of him as a spirit entity, or a demonic one, depending on which of her mages she was discussing him with. She preferred Varric's way of thinking of him, simply as a young man desperately in need of companionship. Lilah sighed and rested her chin on her palm, her elbow braced against the table.

"I am confused indeed. Thank you though, Cole. For sharing."

Cole still looked worried, so she tried to give him a reassuring smile. Her lips did feel a little wobbly, though, so she wasn't sure how reassuring the smile would be. He leaned forward, as if to whisper to her, and Lilah mirrored his stance. This just seemed to be a day full of people wanting to convey things to her via whispers.

"When he thinks of you... the hard edges of his mind soften. I can feel him relaxing, for the first time in a long time. Like when he found you in the snow. Blue needles under the skin, picking, prodding, but no more. He carries you in his arms to the warmth of the tents, to safety, and for the first time he wonders what it would be like to be... of importance to you. He wants to be the first person you see when you awake, but he is called away and the Revered Mother takes his place. It's not fair, not fair. He wanted you to see him, wanted you to know that he cared for you, that he waited out there in the cold, and the dark, alone, shivering, shaking, but sure that you would return. He knew you would return, even when everyone else had given up hope."

Lilah's throat had gone dry. She could feel the beginnings of tears starting to form behind her eyes. Oh, Maker...

"I didn't know... No-one told me what happened after Haven. He waited for me?"

Cole nodded, his hat once more obscuring his eyes.

"Every night, until the afternoon you finally appeared. He could have died himself, sitting there, refusing meals, peering out into the darkness. His belief in you drew your spirit, like a beacon. Brought you back to safety. Home."

She could feel the tracks of tears rolling down her cheeks, but she could also feel her lips curling up at the corners of their own accord. Maker's Breath, what on earth was wrong with her? She'd never really been an emotional sort before. Maybe she was still feeling after effects from the sleeping potions? If so, there must have been some powerful ingredients in those little purple draughts. Wait a moment... Small glass bottle with a purple liquid in it...

"One moment. You said that Cullen kept thinking of a bottle of purple liquid whenever he wanted to... ahem... press his advantage with me. That bottle was a sleeping potion I procured from Solas. Do you have any idea how Cullen would have known about it?"

Cole nodded, eyes still obscured.

"Solas asked him to check on you, to make sure you were alright. He was afraid you wouldn't want to see him after you hit him."

Lilah rubbed a weary hand over her eyes, still resting her chin on her other hand.

"I slapped him, I didn't hit him."

Cole's hat tipped back and once more he made eye contact.

"What's the difference? Skin still makes contact against skin in anger. Eyes flashing with rage and desperation. 'This is what I need to keep the Inquisition going!' Regretting the words, but still believing them, staring blankly at the map and wondering who else will die because of indecision and bad judgement... But that's not right. People die, Lilah. People die every day. In the Inquisition, outside of it, in Orlais, Ferelden, Nevarra, Tevinter... Do you accept the blame for all of those deaths as well? Many people have a stake in the Inquisition and it's various operations, people you've never met, nor will you ever meet. Will you feel badly when each and every one of them meets their end, be it related to the Inquisition or completely unrelated?"

Lilah uncovered her eyes and chuckled softly.

"When you put it like that, Cole, I suppose I have been a little over dramatic about the entire situation. Still, I would feel badly about people giving their lives for the Inquisition, be it near or as far away as Nevarra."

Cole smiled at her, a rare wide grin which showed his teeth.

"That's why I like you. You care. You care about everybody, even me, the forgotten boy."

Lilah smiled at him warmly, and reached out to take his hand once more.

"You won't be forgotten ever again, Cole. I'll make sure of that. For now, though, I'll have to take my leave, and find the rest of the Inner Circle. There's a meeting..."

Cole nodded.

"I know. This afternoon, the same time as yesterday. Hopefully Cassandra won't be as angry with you today. Though, she did feel badly about it last night. Wistful, worried, wanting to apologise but not knowing how, she believes her words were true, but just a bit too harsh. She hopes she's still considered a friend after her rash actions, but understands if it is not to be. The Seeker is... a confusing person."

Lilah nodded, standing up from the table, and Cole did the same.

"She is confusing, I'll give her that."

She made her way towards the door, then hurried back and pulled Cole into a hug. He stiffened in her embrace, then relaxed, his arms remaining at his sides.

"What... what are you doing?"

Lilah peered under the brim of the ridiculous floppy hat, and saw the confusion in his clear blue eyes.

"It's called a hug, Cole. I'm giving you one as thanks for making me feel a bit better, and for helping me to begin to understand an... overly complex man. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

He stared back at her, still confused.

"But people don't like touching me. People go out of their way to not touch me. I've seen people cross the courtyard to get away from me."

Lilah pulled back, holding him at arms length, still looking him in the eye.

"Don't let that bother you. People are always afraid of things they don't understand. You have friends now. Friends who don't mind giving you the occasional hug, when it's called for. Now I really have to go, see you later!"

Cole gazed after her retreating form as she dashed away from the tavern towards the stables to find warden Blackwall. He found himself smiling.

"I have friends. This... is a good thing."

He climbed up the two flights of stairs to the top floor of the tavern and sat in his quiet, dark corner to contemplate what having friends meant to him. It was, indeed, a good thing.

On her way to the stables, Lilah realised that she should have told Iron Bull and Sera about the meeting while she'd been in the tavern still, and cursed herself for having just doubled her journey. Then she realised, with that extra time, she could think about the new information she'd received about Cullen from Cole. He'd waited out there, alone in the snow, after Haven. Waited for her, every night, sure that she would appear, even when everyone else had given up. He'd carried her in his arms, brought her back to warmth and shelter, and no-one had told her. She supposed they had their own agendas, it was fairly obvious that Blackwall and The Iron Bull were interested in her, romantically. She just hadn't felt a spark with either of them. With Cullen, there wasn't just a spark. There were all-consuming flames that threatened to eat them both alive.

She supposed that Josephine and Leliana had 'forgotten' to mention Cullen's involvement in her rescue to keep her mind on the tasks at hand. That was sensible, but still... And Sera and Vivienne, well, who knew what they were thinking most of the time. Solas had probably only been worried about her wellbeing, after three days and nights wandering through the snow. Cassandra had most likely been trying to keep all of the rag-tag members of the Inquisition organised. Dorian... well, he'd probably given up on her as dead and had decided to get stinking drunk, as was his way. Varric would have no doubt been trying to keep everyone's good spirits up, as hard as that would be at a time like that. And Cole... Cole probably would have been trying to sense her mind, across the fields of white, as she stumbled through that blinding maelstrom. At least he'd told her now. Probably because no-one had warned him not to. Lilah sighed and continued on to the stables.

"Blackwall? Are you around?"

The bearded warrior was walking down the stairs from the loft where he slept, straightening his jacket ties, when he answered.

"Yes, Inquisitor?"

He'd been nothing but polite to her since the day they'd decided not to pursue any kind of romantic relationship. He'd approached her on the battlements and, in his own roundabout way, had let her know he had feelings for her by telling her not to have feelings for him. It had definitely made things between them easier when she'd agreed not to. He'd actually seemed kind of relieved, but then on occasion she had noticed him staring at her in a decidedly heated fashion. Perhaps he was having second thoughts? Recently, though, he hadn't been throwing any of those aforementioned looks at her. Maybe he'd realised there was no chance for him and he'd moved on. Hopefully.

"I've just come by to let you know about a meeting this afternoon. Same time same place as yesterday. That's all."

Blackwall cracked his neck and grinned.

"Should we bring weapons, just in case it gets ugly again, My Lady?"

Lilah snorted out a laugh, and shook her head.

"No, I think today will be much calmer. Hopefully. Stay alert maybe?"

Blackwall put four fingers against his forehead and saluted her, grinning.

"In Peace, Vigilance, My Lady. I'll see you then."

Lilah saluted him back and wandered over to the training dummies where Cassandra was forgetting her troubles by breaking some straw dummies. Blackwall hurried back to the stairwell, undoing his jacket again as he all but ran up the stairs. He stripped it, and his shirt off, and started undoing the ties on his trousers. He looked down at the dark haired Antivan beauty lying on the meagre straw pallet he used as a bed, drinking in her naked splendour.

"Maker's Breath..."

Josephine smiled up at him, arching her neck and back languorously as she awaited the return of her lover.

"Did you know about this meeting?"

He settled himself between her legs, holding himself up on his forearms so he didn't crush her beneath him. She pulled his face down closer to hers, a smile teasing her lips.

"Of course I knew about it. Why do you think I ran over here so quickly? We don't have as much time as I would have wanted, though..."

Blackwall lowered his face to her throat, placing a delicate kiss on her pulse point, and Josephine moaned.

"I'll just have to be fast, then. Fast, but thorough..."

Jospehine pulled his face back up to hers, and kissed him passionately and deeply.

"How thorough?"

Blackwall kissed her throat again, then moved himself lower to kiss the top of both of her breasts. Josephine's breath quickened.

"Extremely thorough, My Lady..."

He continued to move lower, kissing her stomach, her abdomen... She braced her feet against the floor, and bent her knees, as he continued his downward exploration.

"And... H...how fast...?"

He kissed her inner thigh, his beard tickling her, as he moved himself into a more comfortable position. He blew a puff of air across her most delicate of areas, and she gasped, her back arching again, hands grasping at the edges of the straw mattress. He smiled to himself, then answered, before he set about his 'work'.

"You'll see, Lovely One. You'll see..."

As Lilah walked over to the sword-play area that Cassandra favoured, she could have sworn she'd heard two voices coming from Blackwall's attic. And moaning. She shook her head, and continued walking towards Cassandra. The pile of broken dummies on the ground beside her didn't bode well for a calm conversation.

"Cassandra? Cassandra!"

The Seeker was so intent on hacking this particular dummy's right arm off, she didn't seem to even hear Lilah's call. Lilah continued approaching, and stood off to the side while Cassandra finished hacking the arm off the unfortunate straw man.

"Maker take you!"

The arm finally lay on the floor, and Cassandra sliced the dummy's head off in one stroke. She then turned around, sword still brandished, and almost ran Lilah through where she was waiting.

"By the Maker...! Trevelyan, I could have killed you! What were you thinking, sneaking up on me like some kind of...?"

Lilah grinned lopsidedly, and knocked the blade of the sword away from her chest.

"Rogue? Sneak thief? Oh, giant sneaky spider!"

The exasperated Seeker rubbed her forehead wearily, sheathing her sword and walking towards the wooden benches nearby to sit and talk.

"Trevelyan. I... have been told that I may have been a little... rough. In my treatment of you yesterday. I trust you are feeling better today?"

Lilah slumped onto the bench beside her, staring at the ground through her open knees.

"I'm fine. If anything, you gave me a little shove in the right direction yesterday. Perhaps all I needed was a good shake."

Cassandra shot her a quick sideways look, then looked away, biting her lip.

"I don't deal well with indecisive people. And I've also been told, in no uncertain terms, that I can be rather bullheaded when things don't go my way. As one of the public faces of the Inquisition, I need to learn to curb my anger, especially when I am dealing with the Inquisitor herself."

Lilah glanced over at her, and noticed that the Seeker was hugging her arms around her middle, and looking rather worried. Lilah reached out and placed a hand on the older woman's shoulder.

"Cassandra. It's fine, really. You don't have to apologise. We're still friends, right? Occasionally, friends need to give each other a push, to start them in the right direction. Although, I don't think it's usually an actual push. Normally it's just a figure of speech."

Cassandra choked out a small laugh, her lips relaxing into a small smile.

"Friends... Yes, I suppose sometimes friends do need to give each other a push. I promise though, next time, it won't be as violent."

Lilah chuckled, removing her hand from Cassandra's shoulder.

"I'll thank you for that in advance. You are rather strong. I thought I'd have an imprint of the Map table in my rear for the next few days."

Cassandra's small laugh turned into a proper full throated chuckle, and she quickly covered her mouth and looked away.

"Maker's Breath! You can be as vulgar as Varric sometimes..."

Lilah grinned and turned to face the Seeker.

"That's why you like me, though. I didn't just come over here for a chat though. There's a meeting this afternoon, same time and place as yesterday. I'm informing everyone. I have to get the Inquisition back on track. I hope you'll be standing by my side. I do respect your opinions."

Cassandra looked a little lost for words.

"I... Thank you, Inquisitor."

Lilah moved to stand up, but Cassandra grabbed her wrist.

"One moment, before you go..."

Cassandra pulled her dagger from it's sheath, and held it out towards Lilah. Oh yes, that's right. She'd sharpened it the previous night.

"That's your dagger. Is there a reason you're showing me your dagger, Cassandra?"

Cassandra's eyes narrowed, and she hurled the dagger at the last remaining standing dummy. It embedded right into the straw face, which had a lopsided smiley face painted on it. Someone had also scrawled on the chest in messy script 'Eat it, Coryphenus!'. Ah, Sera.

"Yesterday that dagger was so blunt it would have bounced off that straw and probably stabbed me in the foot. Today, however, it's as sharp as it was the day it was forged. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Lilah shrugged and stood up without interference this time.

"Maybe some helpful, dagger sharpening spirit swooped into the Map room last night and felt sorry for it?"

Cassandra crossed her arms, still smiling slightly.

"Is that so? What sort of offering should I leave for a dagger sharpening spirit?"

Lilah blinked innocently.

"Why, I wouldn't know. Perhaps cookies? On the armrest of the Throne. So that the spirit can find them easily."

Cassandra smiled more widely.

"I'll keep that in mind. See you later, Trevelyan."

Lilah waved as she headed back towards the tavern. Iron Bull was easy. He was drinking with the Chargers on the bottom floor of the tavern, laughing uproariously at something that Krem had said. He'd clapped her on the back, almost sending her flying across the room, and promised he'd be there.

"Is it's as entertaining as yesterday's meeting, I wouldn't miss it for all the gold in Thedas!"

She'd ducked up the stairs after that to tell Sera, but the elf had still been fast asleep. Sweet Maker, that girl knew how to utilise a day off. She decided to come back later and try again. Vivienne was her next stop, and luckily for her, Dorian was visiting the Ex-First Enchanter. As Lilah sauntered up the stairs towards Vivienne's balcony, Dorian spotted her.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite Inquisitor!"

Lilah grinned, finding herself enveloped in robe clad arms, his moustache tickling the side of her face. He smelled of expensive wine. Naturally.

"Aren't I the only Inquisitor?"

Dorian let her go and held her at arm's length.

"That's why you're my favourite. Sharp as a tack, this one. Here, have some wine! Oops..."

He sloshed some of the red liquid onto her sleeve, staining her Fennec leather jacket.

"You'll want to get that cleaned up, my dear. Red's always stain."

Vivienne sounded slightly amused as she moved forward to give her a kiss in greeting on both cheeks, as was the Orlesian way.

"But before you do, come, sit and have a drink. I've also had some new cheeses delivered, you should try them."

Lilah looked down at the decorative table, absolutely covered in different bottles of wine, varying in emptiness, and platters of cheese.

"Is this what you two do on our days off? I should come and visit you more often."

Dorian had slung his arm around her shoulder to steer her towards the couch.

"That you should! I do so miss our little chats, Lilah."

She leaned her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"I've just been so busy, Dorian. If anyone had told me how hard it would be to run an Inquisition, I don't think I would have put my hand up."

His arm around her tightened, and she felt him place a light kiss against her hair.

"I didn't think you had a choice, sweetheart. But every so often, you do have to take a step back and enjoy some good company. And some good wine."

Vivienne handed her a silver goblet, half full of the sweet smelling liquid.

"In moderation, of course, Dorian dear. Not everybody has your... constitution."

Dorian took another swig from his own goblet, and blinked at Vivienne innocently.

"My constitution? Is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

Lilah took a sip, and the sweet, warm liquid slid down her throat. Oh Maker, this is... lovely...

"I did come here for a reason though. We're having another meeting tonight, same time, same place."

Vivienne took an elegant sip from her goblet, and gazed at Lilah.

"Is that wise, my dear? When only yesterday you and Cassandra were practically at each other's throats. So scandalous..."

Lilah sighed and took another sip, picking up a small wedge of the Antivan Cheddar.

"I've already spoken with Cassandra. We're fine."

Vivienne crossed her legs and rested one elbow on the armrest of her high backed arm chair.

"Very well, dear. I will get Dorian sobered up enough to stand, and we'll be in attendance. In the meantime, please enjoy your drink before you make your next stop."

Lilah extricated herself from Dorian's grasp, and finished her goblet and cheese, before heading down to her quarters to change her jacket. On removal of her stained jacket, she noticed the red spots on her chest were still there, and not yet starting to fade. Maker, what were they? She hoped she hadn't picked up some sort of Blight sickness the last time she'd been out fighting darkspawn. Now clad in a clean ensemble, she headed out to find Solas and tell him about the meeting. Easily done, she actually met him as she was walking down to his chambers. He nodded, and placed a hand on her arm.

"How is your day going, Trevelyan?"

Lilah smiled at him, crookedly.

"Surprisingly well, considering..."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Considering...?"

She looked up at him. He wouldn't have sent Cullen to look after her on purpose, would he? Did he know about the ex-templar's feelings for her?

"I... apparently had quite a few interesting adventures last night. Some good, some bad. Some... confusing."

Solas walked beside her, matching her pace.

"Do you need some time away? I could speak to Leliana and Josephine, explain you're feeling some effects from over-work, if you like?"

Lilah's eyes widened.

"No! I need to keep myself busy! I need to keep my mind occupied or..."

Solas's grasp on her arm tightened.

"Or...?"

Lilah sighed. 'Or I'll be obsessing about a certain ex-templar's upper body strength' was not the best answer she could proffer.

"Or I won't be doing the best work that I could do. I won't settle for anything less than my best."

Solas smiled, gave her arm one last squeeze, then released her.

"Very well, Trevelyan. I'll see you at the meeting."

Lilah hurried out the doors of the Main hall, and back towards the tavern, hoping Sera would be awake by now. Solas sighed, and scratched his chin.

"Humans. So odd about their feelings. I honestly thought I was helping. If THIS is what happens when you put two people together who have feelings for each other... Maker help us all..."

Lilah climbed the stairs of the tavern again, and this time heard a pained groaning coming from Sera's room. She entered to find the elven woman lying on her love seat with both hands pressed hard into her eyes. Solas had said she'd been drinking the previous night. She was just lucky that Lilah hadn't dragged her out to the Emerald Graves to hunt Great Bears or something today. Her growling was pretty much on par for a great bear at the moment. Lilah knelt by the seat and poked Sera in her side, lightly.

"Sera. Sera, wake up."

Sera rolled over, facing in to the back of the seat.

"Piss off, I'm dying..."

Lilah poked her in the back, harder this time.

"Wake up. You're not dying, you're just really, really hung over."

Sera remained facing the back of the seat.

"That's not any better. Isn't Andraste supposed to be all about nurturing and caring? If you're her Herald, you should be leaving the drunken elves of the world to sleep it off in their little beds?"

Lilah grabbed her by the hands and pulled her into a sitting position.

"You're not in a bed, Sera. You're sleeping on a couch in a tavern."

Sera squinted between her fingers at Lilah, looking altogether sorry for herself.

"Details, details, bloody details. Why are you waking me up so early, anyway?"

Lilah blinked.

"Early? It's past four in the afternoon."

Sera groaned again, finally uncovering her eyes.

"Well, there goes my day. To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your presence, Lize?"

Lilah sat next to her on the seat, resting her elbows on her knees.

"We're having another meeting..."

Sera threw a dirty look at her.

"You Inquisition lot and your shite meetings, why do you have to have so many of them? All blah blah blah, kill this, do that, find this artifact... So boring. Why can't we just go out, kill some bandits and profit?"

Lilah raised an eyebrow, and patted Sera on the head.

"Sera... we do that all the time. The meetings are for the more... diplomatic things we have to do."

Sera's head hung down, elbows also resting on her knees.

"Diplomatic stuff's boring."

Lilah nodded.

"Yes. Yes it is."

She was struck with a thought. Sera had been in Ferelden during the Blight. Maybe she knew what Blight sickness looked like. Lilah gave Sera a nudge, and she looked up at her, albeit a little blearily.

"What's up?"

Lilah turned to look at her seriously, and Sera twisted in her seat so they were facing each other.

"Sera, I need you to help me out with something. It's... personal. So if you can be discreet that would be appreciated."

Sera blinked, still obviously quite out of it, but nodded. She mimed buttoning her lips, and leaned forward.

"You were in Ferelden during the Blight, right?"

Sera's steady gaze faltered, and she looked down.

"Yeah, I was. It wasn't my favourite time, but I remember it. Why?"

Lilah leaned in again.

"Do you know what Blight sickness looks like?"

Sera's face screwed up, and she looked like she was about to be sick. Lilah glanced around, looking for a bucket.

"I saw lots of people with Blight sickness. Lots of elves, and poor people, dying in the streets. All puss and boils and blood, skin turning black and rotting off. I got out of there as quickly as possible. Why?"

Lilah hurriedly unbuttoned the top few buttons of her fresh jacket, baring her corseted chest to show Sera the red marks.

"Did it look anything like this?"

Sera's face turned blank for a minute, then a wicked grin spread across her face. She started cackling, rolling around on the seat until she eventually fell on the floor.

"What? I take it from your reaction I'm not about to die."

Sera's cackle had died down to random bursts of giggles, but she was still lying on the floor.

"No, you're not dying. But somebody has been very, very naughty."

Lilah's cheeks grew red, as she remembered her previous evening's activities.

"What do you mean?"

Sera rolled her eyes, and poked Lilah in her still un-clad chest.

"Those are kiss marks. Love bites. From the look of them, someone wanted to mark you as their own, quite a few times. So, who's the lucky man? Or lady?"

She waggled her eyebrows up and down, making Lilah snort, even as she was completely mortified. Love bites. Cullen had left love bites all over chest. She did remember him spending quite a lot of time, tasting and teasing her there. As she recalled, she had enjoyed it quite a lot. She wondered if he'd left those marks on her on purpose, and her cheeks were suddenly flooded with heat. Cullen, in the heat of passion, taking the time to mark her as his own. It was almost too much to bear. She couldn't possibly tell Sera who'd left those marks on her. Not yet anyway.

"Man. And... I don't think he'd like me to reveal his identity just yet."

Sera scowled, and punched her in the leg.

"Spoilsport. At least I got to see your ample bosom, M'lady. You might want to put those away before you leave. Just sayin'."

Lilah re-buttoned her jacket, and stood up, pulling Sera back up onto the seat.

"So. Meeting. Same time as yesterday. Just... stay awake for it. Maybe you and Dorian can just lean against each other and try not to snore too loudly."

Sera waved goodbye, once again cradling her head in her hands.

Lilah headed out of the tavern, and moved toward the stone steps that led to the battlements. Each step she climbed, her feet seemed to grow more leaden. She had to talk to him, didn't she? They couldn't just leave this one night hanging between them, unspoken, filling any silence with tension. He'd kissed her, she'd kissed him, he'd marked her with his teeth and tongue, so sweetly she hadn't even realised it had happened. His hands had been everywhere, well, almost everywhere. She'd tried to go further, but he had stopped her. He hadn't wanted to take advantage because of the sleeping potions, at least that's what it sounded like coming from Cole. Ser Cullen, a gentleman to the last. Lilah paused halfway up the stairs, wondering what a completely un-gentlemanly Ser Cullen would be like. He'd probably never make it to the bedroom... Then again, his strong arms holding her up against the wall, and the steady, even thrusts of his hips against hers would make not making it to a bed completely bearable. Lilah wasn't exactly one to stand for tradition, anyway.

She reached the top of the stairs and noticed a familiar yellow glow emanating from Ser Cullen's door. Magically sealed. She imagined the other two doors would be similarly locked. She sighed and walked slowly back down the stone steps, heading back towards the Main hall. There were only a few minutes before the War Council meeting. She'd surely see him there. She might be able to steal some of his time after the meeting to discuss the events of last night, and figure out where they stood. She couldn't just leave these feelings unexplored. 'Find him. Find him and tell him. He'll understand.' Maybe this is what Fiona was talking about. Discussing her feelings with Ser Cullen so they could come to some sort of... agreement? Or so they could start courting, perhaps? They were almost beyond courting now though, after last night. Hopefully they'd be able to find some sort of happy medium. The way she was feeling right now, though, they'd just have to come to some sort of solution where they could be in a room together without either (a) ripping each other's clothes off, or (b) not being able to speak to or make eye contact with each other. There was a lot to consider. She only hoped she'd be able to find the perfect compromise.

END OF PART 06

Well, Cullen was mentioned in passing, I guess, which sort of counts. Part 07 is on its way. Sorry this was so long, but I had so much fun writing it! I love all the characters in this game. I'm not sure if Part 07 will be the last part or not, but I must be getting close by now, surely! As always, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire out!


End file.
